


Second Chances

by burninglight (ryujintide)



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Break Up, Self-Discovery, Soft Jacob Black, Vampire Turning, Volturi, Werewolf Drama, Wolf Pack, Wolf Pack Drama, Yes we're touching on Jacob's issues cause the boy's got a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-10-03 23:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryujintide/pseuds/burninglight
Summary: There’s something about the new girl on the rez that keeps Jacob Black coming back. No one’s seen his heart as much as she has, apart from his fellow pack mates - maybe not even Bella Swan, childhood best friend and current unrequited love.Amaya’s hoping it’s love that’s between the two of them, but they’ll have to delve through secrets, painful pasts, and family conflict to get to the root of their unique bond.Takes place in between New Moon and Eclipse.





	1. Forks, Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya and her mother arrive at Forks.

When you're a kid, you follow movies like a map into where your life will fall. You believe you're the underdog, the one that'll pull the sword from its stone, so to speak. You spend your days knelt down by a windowsill, wishing on stars that fairytales told you were magic. They all said when you're fifteen, you go to prom in a poofy dress and converses to find love with the star quarterback, and the mean girls fall back and the world comes together.

Driving from New York and onto a New Jersey freeway, Thomas Hernandez drove alongside his wife, Jennifer Turner. Two teens were racing in separate cars, tailgating surrounding vehicles and weaving through lanes recklessly. It didn't take much for one to make an error in judgment as he merged into a lane at ninety miles an hour, and total my parents' car.

My father's body was mangled in the front seat as my mother witnessed in horror. There was too much blood washed over his eyes and hair that she could barely recognize him.

Broken neck, the autopsy said. Dead, and his killer gone with him.

The obituaries said he was survived by his wife and child, but there were days that we felt we had died in the car with him.

I didn't go to prom. I didn't get any powers, I didn't save the day.

When I was fifteen, my mother and I began our two-year plan to get away from the memories of the dead man that we loved most.

* * *

Mom’s body was stiff in the driver’s side of the car, immobile as a doe blinded by headlights. Even though she was in perfect control, it was like she was ready to get hit at any moment. I kept my earbuds in to enjoy some music. She never liked the radio on - it was too much of a distraction.

She focused on merging into the last exit we’d take until we reached our new home. Her shoulders slumped in relief as soon as she saw us pulling away from a high-speed freeway and into a slow, suburban neighborhood.

“Where to next, Maya?” she sighed.

“‘Turn left onto West-East Lauridsen Boulevard,’” I read from a wrinkled paper.

Since Forks was a small town, it didn’t take long for us to find our house. We drove through rows of two-story houses and deciduous trees coated in moss. This was a much calmer route than our flight to Washington and our road trip to town. We parked the cherry-red rental car onto the driveway and unlocked the door to our new home.

The house smelled strange, both new and old like freshly-polished wood and library books. Living West was much cheaper than living in New York City. With what money we had available, we bought our first house. I found myself appreciating the space of a two-story home than a cramped apartment in Manhattan.

We pulled our luggage from the trunk, eager to make ourselves at home as soon as possible. I dragged my luggage up the stairs, surveying our living space. Between the two bedrooms, I noticed one was much larger compared to the other, complete with a large window overlooking a street slick with rain.

Mom heaved her own suitcase up the stairs.

“Take it, Maya,” she panted, dropping the bag at the top, “You should have a big room. For your desk and all that.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, helping her move her own bag into the smaller room.

Entering my new room, I caught my breath as I leaned against the windowsill, watching the quaint suburban lives of my new neighbors play out before me. People walked by in umbrellas or occasionally drove past the little row of houses that I’d never dreamed of living in.

Cold rain and pearl-grey skies loomed overhead, a constant barrier between warm sunlight. I would have to get used to the weather as well as suburban life - the only city I knew of in this state was four hours away from me. If I were to go anywhere close to urban life, I would have to learn how to drive. The thought made my heart race - the subway and bus were my main ways of getting around New York, but I could see that wasn’t going to be much of an option here.

Dad never would have liked this kind of living. I knew that’s why my mom wanted Forks.

Not much time passed before the movers arrived. The pieces of our old lives weren’t much to fill the house on their own. We mainly had our beds and mattresses with our other personal belongings - everything else was sold and to be replaced. I was making my bed and when someone knocked on our door again. I bounded down the steps, expecting our order of new furniture to have arrived.

Instead, a middle-aged man wearing a weathered black jacket and flannel stood at the door. His face was round and tanner than my own, sporting laugh-lines around his thin mouth and crow’s feet around his obsidian, almond eyes. His hair reached to his chest, its color as deep as a raven’s wing.

“Hi. You must be…” he smiled and paused for a moment before tilting his head. “Is your mom home?”

“She’s upstairs,” I said. I turned to the stairs to call for her. “Mom!”

My mom bounded down the steps, her straight, black hair now coiled into a messy bun. Her long sleeves were rolled at the elbow as she wiped the back of her hand along her forehead. At the bottom of the steps, her eyes met his blankly before widening in surprise.

“Malcolm!” She cried and gave him a big hug. “God, it’s been so long.” They held onto each other tightly, his crow’s feet tightening as he smiled over her shoulder. They parted and turned to me.

Mom said, “Honey, this is an old friend from high school. He lives on the reservation near Forks.”

“There’s enough room for both of you there, as you well know,” he chided.

My mom shut the door behind him as her cheeks reddened. “Malcolm, I…”

“I’m just teasing ya. Forks is a good town." He ruffled the top of my mom’s head. She tensed as she smiled, quickly reaching to the top of her head to smooth out his handiwork. He added, “Just wanted to welcome you guys, maybe help with unpacking.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Mom waved him off with a meek smile.

“I’d love to." He gestured to me and asked, “And you are...?”

“Amaya. Call me Maya,” I introduced myself.

“Nice to meet you,” he greeted, his large cracked palm crushing my smaller one into a handshake.

My stomach turned as my eyes flashed between the two of them. My mom hadn’t taught me much about our culture or our tribe, the Quileutes. This was the first time I had met someone from the reservation.

“You both look great,” he said, looking between Mom and I. “I know it’s a little soon but you’ve got a lot of people excited to see you.”

My mom’s face twinged into an awkward smile, brushing some fallen hair behind her ear. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“Not to put any pressure on you, Jen. A lot of people have been talking at the Healing Circle. That’s kind of… my fault," Malcolm admitted, his gaze falling to the floor.

Mom’s arms crossed against her chest. “You told everyone we moved to Forks?”

“I told Ma. You know how excited she gets,” Malcolm explained. “I’m really sorry, Jenny.”

“That’s not your fault,” Mom rolled her eyes and sighed. “I just don’t think we’ll be able to go to the rez anytime soon, with the move and all.”

“It’s fine, Jen. I didn’t expect too much of a ‘yes’. Maybe another time, okay?” he asked.

Mom nodded hesitantly and said, “I’m sorry, Mac.”

“No, no worries. We’ll be in touch." He leaned in to give her a hug and added, “You’ve got my number. I’ll see you guys around.”

We said our goodbyes, watching Malcolm get into a shabby truck parked out front before shutting the front door. I looked to my mom, who pinched the bridge of her nose with shut eyes. 

“What’s a ‘Healing Circle’?” I asked.

“It’s just a little gathering the reservation does,” she explained.

I sighed and began walking up the stairs past her.

“Sweetie,” she began, turning to look up at me from the bottom of the stairs, “Things with Grandma aren’t good. They haven’t been for a very long time.”

Mom was only seventeen when she'd gotten pregnant with me, much to Grandma's disapproval. There was a lack of consensus among the Turner family as to how a child would be financially feasible, but one thing was for sure: Grandma was fiercely opposed to my mother keeping me around. My father, a budding architect in Seattle, had a job offer in New York and vowed to support my mother and me. She packed her bags and left the reservation, only a few months pregnant, and never spoke to Grandma again.

“I know," I said.

“Please don’t be mad at me, love. I’m sorry,” she said, her eyebrows creasing worry-lines into her forehead.

“I’m not, Mom. Really,” I assured her as I retreated back to my room. “I wouldn’t know what to do there, anyway. I’m kind of clueless about the tribe.”

Finding things out about the Quileute tribe was hard research. I had been doing it more intensively once we decided to move to Forks, but Mom insisted things would be best learned on the reservation itself. Unsatisfied by my lack of knowledge, I did my best to write down whatever words in Quileute I could find on the internet. Using ancient microfilms and worn books from the library, I had some limited information about Quileute ceremonies and legends, but I was still as disconnected from the reservation as an outsider could get.

Mom stopped in my doorway, looking at me where I sat on my bed.

“That’s why we’re here, honey,” she explained, “Don’t worry. I want you to learn with Grandma all the things I did when I was a kid.” She sat next to me on my bed, sweeping her hand across my face to move long strands of hair away. She sighed, “Let’s just settle in and we’ll handle it when we get there. Okay?”

I nodded.

Mom retreated back downstairs to handle whatever new furniture the movers brought. Lying down on my bed, I stared up at the popcorn ceiling, getting lost in all the ridges and bubbles of the white paint.

My mother took a long time to put change into place. It took us two years to move here, after all. As stubborn as she was, she was also scared. She was once scared to let go of my dad once he passed, scared to move, and now scared to go back to the reservation. I didn’t know how long it would take for her to work up the courage to talk to her own mother, but I knew I could only be patient.

The exhaustion began quickly taking over my body. It succumbed to sleep, the tiring journey finally seeping to my bones and lulling me to rest.

* * *

Three weeks passed from our landing in Seattle. My mom worked tirelessly to unpack. Of course, I would help, but she was relentless when it came to setting the house up. Sometimes at night, I would hear her building furniture. She’d curse out the directions it came with or throw down screwdrivers. I’d find her sprawled across the couch in the morning and start my days by making us both breakfast before getting to work on finishing the move.

Malcolm dropped by every once in a while. He’d order us pizza, coaxing screwdrivers into stubborn pieces of furniture, letting my exhausted mother find refuge in a nap. They’d open a bottle of wine and talk about the good times, all the bonfires they had on First Beach and the old rez school. They’d talk about how different the coasts were and we’d watch Malcolm brighten with curiosity at our tales from the city.

Yet, the house still felt empty. The stuff from our apartment couldn’t quite fill our new, larger home. Even the newer things felt somehow too small and out of place.

Sometimes I would sit in my room, useless without schoolwork, and start a new book or art-project - things I didn’t have time for in the city. The only real excitement I found was getting up in the morning, putting on my sneakers and sweats, and taking a jog through the forest that was practically my new backyard. Mom hadn’t objected to this until one day, a bright flier came in the mail.

“‘Save the Olympic Wolf’?” Mom questioned. Malcolm happened to be over at the time, opening up a few more boxes with us.

“Yeah,” Malcolm groaned, “Lots of reports coming from the forest. Animal attacks, I heard.”

“What?” I asked in surprise. “I go jogging in the woods all the time.”

“I’d rather you jog on the block, Maya.” Mom’s brows came together in worriedly as she added, “If I had any idea I wouldn’t have let you.”

“It’s probably for the best. Except Olympic wolves don’t have much use for humans.” Malcolm winked at me.

So life dragged on in Forks, with nothing else to do but fix up the new house.

But then one afternoon, the moment came. Mom walked into my room, her face dressed in blush and foundation, her eyelashes pin-pricked with mascara and her round eyes accented with eyeshadow. My stomach turned at the sight of her. It had been a while since I had seen her so dressed up. Even though she was only wearing jeans and a sweater, I could see the thought put into keeping her hair into styled waves.

I noticed it wasn’t the makeup that made her look young and rosy, although it was gracefully brushed across the freckles on her cheeks. She wasn’t pulling her face into worrylines. It was like a sea gone calm, the waves absent from its surface. Just peaceful.

“Come. Let me get you dressed for the Healing Circle,” she said faintly.

I sat across from my mom on her bed, letting her hands work over my face so I could look as alive and beautiful as she did. When I turned to face the mirror, I saw us looking more like sisters, one older than the other. My face was a little rounder than hers, but there was without a doubt we were family. As I looked at myself, I wondered if I took after my grandma too.

“Go get dressed. Something casual,” she murmured.

I did as she asked, putting on a pair of jeans and slip-on skate shoes. I put on a thermal-shirt and my corduroy jacket, putting my hood over my head as we left the house and out into a misting of rain. We got into the cherry-red rental and headed to the reservation to face something Mom had been dreading for seventeen years.

My mom’s knuckles tightened around the wheel, her shoulders tense in the driver’s seat as we merged onto La Push Road, a fifteen-mile stretch to the reservation. There was hardly any traffic, our only companions the trees and wild grass that lined the road. We turned from La Push Road into Quileute Heights, a clearing into what looked like a roundabout with quaint houses surrounding it. Mom parked the car, her hands shaking as she reached for the ignition and turned the car off.

“Mom?” I called to her from the midst of her panic, “You’ve got this.”

“I just… I don’t know if I can…” she got out. She was beginning to hyperventilate.

“Mom. Keep it together.” I put my hand on hers. “I didn’t wanna say this earlier, but I’m perfectly fine with not having a bitch of a grandma who would turn us away after all these years.”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“She didn’t even want me to exist. We’re not really looking for her approval right now. She should be looking for ours,” I reminded her.

“Maya, I went through your father’s death alone because she wasn’t there,” she sniffled. “All I had was you. I needed you. You were much stronger than me. Even now you still are.”

She grabbed her purse from the backseat, looking for tissues to wipe at her eyes. She took some out, careful not to smudge her make-up against the tears.

“You have no idea how much I saw her in you,” she sobbed.

My heart twinged remembering our days in that apartment. I spent days resenting my mom for not being able to get out of bed, for not being the mom I needed her to be when I was grieving, too. I now knew her suffering was coming from a different grief. She wasn’t just dealing with losing her husband. She had to face how alone she really was without him and her family from the reservation.

I held her hand as she breathed in deep.

“Let’s go, Mom,” I said. “I need to know who she is.”

Mom nodded, inhaling and exhaling carefully. She blew her nose, careful to remove all traces of her tears. We stepped out of the car. As I reached for her hand, I wondered if she thought I was holding on tight to reassure her. In reality, I was just as scared myself. Mom led me to a white house with a yellowed buzzer on the side of the door. She rung the button that had a label next to it that read “M. Turner”. We stood, a breeze whipping our hair in front of our eyes, staring straight at the door in silence.

The door creaked open. From behind it, a round-faced woman with a soft, wrinkled and tan complexion appeared. Her hair was short around her ears, wavy and white.

“Jenny?” she asked as she looked at Mom.

“Ma. It’s me,” Mom greeted her, “I’m home.”

The old woman trembled a little, her face still and slowly spreading into a smile. Her hands reached to her mouth in surprise, and she gave a shriek of excitement before giving mom a tight hug. Grandma held on tight, her head almost in my mom’s chest with how short she was compared to Mom. She looked up at her and I could see tears trailing from her cheeks, taking in every detail of my mom’s face as if it had been a hundred years.

“Jenny, I… I forgot how tall you are!” Grandma cried. My mom laughed in relief, turning to me with tears reappearing her eyes.

“Ma,” she began, taking my hand. “This is my daughter.”

She exclaimed with wide eyes, “Jenny, she looks just like you!” She grabbed me and took me in for a hug.

Alright, I lied. I lied about not needing her approval. Because when I hugged her back, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long while.

Relief. A question long unanswered and my answer finally found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter!


	2. La Push, Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya comes face to face with her Quileute heritage at a gathering called The Healing Circle. She's met with a warm reception from family she's never met in her seventeen years of life. Everyone at the circle seem happy to see her and her mother - everyone, that is, except Jacob Black.

The Healing Circle took place in a room at the Quileute community center. When we arrived, I saw men standing at the center of a circle with drums, thick like slabs of oak cut from its trunk, and their surfaces worn and grayed like old, white leather. Images of black birds, painted in creative shapes and accented with red paint were tattooed on the drum’s surface. The men banged at them with thick drumsticks made of wood topped with leather.

Little girls took their place in front of the drummers, their smiles brimming with joy at the fun their dancing brought them. Over their shoulders, they wore black blankets trimmed with crimson red. Onto these blankets were images of wing-spread eagles sewn in black fabric. The other dancers had differing images on their blankets as well, creatures with tails and teeth I couldn’t distinguish in the Quileute decorative.

When I turned back to my grandma, I noticed she had been staring at me with tears in her eyes. She took my hand.

“When Jenny was just a little girl, she would dance in the circle,” she explained, pointing to the drummers. 

Women, men, and children watched the drummers, who chanted a heavy song that echoed against the tall ceiling and walls of the community center.

I had no words. I saw people I never imagined myself even standing next to, having never been on a reservation. I could tell that for them, this was just a typical day of the week. For me, it was the first circle of what I hoped would be many, a genesis to a journey I had been aching to start my whole life. Goosebumps raised on my arms and the back of my neck, seeing drums but hearing a part of me in them.

“Well, look who it is!” Malcolm came up to us with a big smile and gave Mom and Grandma each a big hug. “Is it safe to say the war’s ended?”

Grandma laughed, wiping at her eyes. “We’ve called a truce.”

“I wish I would have known sooner. I’ll call Allison and Billy. They’ll want to see all three of you,” Malcolm said.

“Oh, Malcolm, don’t make a scene,” Grandma chided playfully.

“I won’t hear the end of it from them if I don’t.” He winked and walked off towards the entrance.

The next hour was a whirlwind of excitement. I finally learned the faces to the many names of my aunts and uncles my mom used to mention, as well as all my cousins both young and old. My grandma even introduced me to some of the tribe elders.

“It’s never too late for you to enroll to live on the reservation,” one of them mentioned.

“I’m already working on it.” Grandma laughed.

Mom, Grandma and I were sitting among some aunts and uncles, talking about their own children who were old enough to live on their own outside the reservation.

That’s when I saw them.

A group of boys, most likely older than I was, walked into the community center. They were tall, muscular and wearing cut-off shorts and t-shirts despite it being cold and rainy outside. They all shared black, cropped hair and tan skin, talking and laughing with one another as they strode into the community center. One boy pushed a wheelchair with an older man sporting long black hair sitting in it. Next to them, a middle-aged woman smiled at my mother once she caught sight of her. She ran to her, giving her a tight hug once she was in Mom's proximity.

“Jenny! You’re back!” the woman exclaimed., "We missed you so much."

“I brought someone along,” Mom pulled from the hug to put her arm around me. “Allison, this is Amaya, my daughter.”

Allison gave a great gasp at the sight of me and exclaimed how happy she was to see me. Apparently, the last time she saw me I was only a bump on my mother's stomach.

“This is my son, Sam Uley,” she gestured to a tall, young man. His hooded eyes, round and powerful under his prominent brow, had a fire in them. His nod and curt smile, barely even there, sufficed as a ‘hello’. We shook hands, his wide palm crushingly tight around mine.

“Honey, this is Billy Black,” Mom introduced.

“Amaya.” I shook his hand and smiled as I introduced myself.

“My son, Jacob.” He gestured to another one of the taller boys who stood behind the wheelchair. He measured just slightly above Sam’s towering height, lowering his gaze to meet mine. He barely managed a smile as he shook my hand, his eyes looking inexplicably dull and wounded.

“I’m Quil Ateara,” one of the shorter boys chimed. Quil shook my hand and smiled warmly. He had a rounder face than the rest of them, his eyebrows bushy and hooding his small brown eyes.

“Embry Call,” another smiled. His face had good symmetry, with prominent, round brown eyes. His smile turned up more on one side of his face than it did the other, a smirk that spelled mischief.

Embry and Quil had enough drive to make a friendly impression among the statuesque boys. I smiled back, grateful to have some welcome reception from people who looked at least close to my age.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Mom murmured to me with a wink. My palms went clammy and I grabbed her arm.

“These guys are like, twenty,” I whispered.

“Your father was twenty when we met,” she teased.

My face burned bright red. I looked over to them and saw Sam averting eye-contact as Embry stifled a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” Billy nodded towards them with a chuckle, “They don’t bite.”

From behind the wheelchair, Jacob rolled his eyes. Mom smiled, leaving me to fend for myself and Billy wheeled himself closer to the older adults of the circle, leaving Jacob free to socialize with the rest of the boys and I.

“First Healing Circle, huh?” Embry said.

I nodded.

“Where you from?” Quil asked with an informal nod, tucking his hands into his front pockets.

“New York,” I answered.

“You’re living on the rez?” Sam asked.

“No.” I cleared my throat. “Forks. But my mom might be trying to move us here.”

Sam snorted. “You can ease up a little bit.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Kid, you’re so stiff you’re making me nervous," he scoffed as he surveyed the rest of the circle.

The boys laughed, not helping my embarrassment. I looked over to Jacob, who physically put himself at a distance from the conversation. He was looking me up-and-down, his eyebrows knitting together and then relaxing as he met my gaze.

“You in middle school?” he sneered, his onyx-colored eyes turning cruel. My face was flushed and I felt the blood rush to my feet in fear. My shoulders stiffened as I squared myself up against my opponent; I realized I would have to hold my ground. 

“No, actually, but you sound like you’ve been left back a few times,” I shot back.

Quil and Embry whooped at my comeback, clearly not expecting me to have said anything in return. Jacob’s unmoving face showed no hints of surprise. 

“You’re quick,” he said, “I heard a lot of girls from Forks are fast.”

“Thanks, but we like boys who can last longer than a minute,” I snapped.

The boys laughed at my quip. Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but Sam put a hand to his chest.

“Alright, let’s talk for a minute,” Sam said, pulling him away from the group.

I watched as the two moved further away from the drum circle, leaving Embry, Quil and I to ourselves.

“What's his problem?” I asked them.

“He just got dumped a while ago.” Embry shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”

“I wonder why.” I shook my head in disapproval. 

Unluckily for Jacob, I had plenty of experience dealing with immature boys. High school was brutal, teaching me a lot of lessons in how to defend myself from insults. Jacob’s remarks ran short compared to things I used to get called and teased for.

I saw Sam and Jacob speaking discreetly on the outskirts of the circle. Jacob nodded at what Sam had to say, glaring past him as he turned to go speak to some of the tribe’s elders. Jacob flung a glare in my direction and turned his attention back at the door with his hands balled into fists. He strode towards the exit, leaving Quil and Embry to myself.

I tried to distract myself from the standoff by making some more conversation with the two friendlier boys. I asked what they did on the reservation, learning about how they hunted, fished, or worked on scrap cars for fun. In return, they learned about how I used to go to clubs, how I didn’t know how to drive, and all the sightseeing destinations I used to pass by every day as a New Yorker. Both sides of our conversation had a lot to learn from each other.

“We don’t really go to Healing Circles often,” Embry said, “We were at Jacob’s house when Malcolm called.”

“You should come down to La Push sometime,” Quil added.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The beach. It’s just a walk from here,” Quil explained.

“We could go now if you want, maybe call Jacob if he’s feeling better,” Embry said.

I looked over at mom, who was sitting next to Grandma and my other relatives.

“I came with my grandma. I kinda only met her today,” I explained, my face feeling warm again.

“There’s always drama on the rez,” Embry shrugged. I wondered if he was aware of the cold war between my mother and grandmother before Quil replied.

“Off it, too,” Quil added, “Jacob’s girl was from Forks.”

I snorted. “Was that how he knew girls from Forks are fast?”

“Nah, Bella wasn’t fast. He just got friend-zoned,” Quil explained.

“How old are you guys anyway?” I asked.

“We’re all sixteen. Sam’s twenty,” Embry said.

“Sixteen?” I asked in disbelief. “You all look like you’re in college.”

“And what are you?” Quil asked.

“Seventeen." 

“You look around there. A little younger,” Embry joked. “Not middle-school kind of younger, though.”

We laughed a bit. Mom came up from behind me, putting her hand on my shoulder.

“Grandma’s getting tired, Maya. I think it’s time we go home,” she said.

Mom, Grandma and I started to say our goodbyes to the members of the tribe. I hugged my many relatives; I still couldn't remember all of their names, but I was more than elated to have met them at all.

As we were making our way out, I would still catch Grandma looking at me from time to time, her eyes still full of that teariness that she had when I first met her. I wondered if she was regretting asking my mom to get rid of me. I wondered if she knew that I was aware I used to be unwanted in her eyes.

Quil tapped my shoulder on the way out and said, “We never got your number.”

He pulled out an old, worn Motorola Sidekick and allowed me to work around the keypad to put in my cell number.

“I’ll get him to text it to me.” Embry gave a nod.

I said my goodbyes, wondering if Quil and Embry could be my friends on the reservation. However, a friendship with either Sam or Jacob seemed highly unlikely. Sam seemed fine, if not a little touchy about who crossed him. Jacob came off as too defensive for my liking. It would be hard to avoid them both, seeing as how they were both friends with Embry and Quil. Maybe Jacob would change over time as the boys said, but I didn’t count on it. There were other relationships I had to build on the rez anyway.

Grandma held onto my hand, making me feel like I was a little kid even though she was the one looking up at me from her smaller stature.

“Maya,” she murmured, “I never thought I would ever see you. I never even knew your name.”

The night sky had snuck up on us during our time at the Healing Circle. The chaos of meeting so much family in such little time distracted me from all the time that passed. I turned to my mom who watched grandma and I intently, a soft smile curling at her lips as her eyebrows knitted closer together faintly in the worried way they always did.

“Even though it’s too soon to say, I’d love for you both to live here again," Grandma said.

“I want to learn everything Mom did growing up,” I admitted.

“That’s what grandmas are for. Just let me take care of everything." Her frail hand patted the outside of my own as we walked together towards her home.

I could hear waves crashing somewhere in the dark. The faint drizzling of rain misted my face, and I knew I was close at sea by the smell of salt in the air. Three generations of Turners were under these same stars that watched the many generations of Turners before us—the ones who hunted, danced, prayed, and lived off of the very land that I stood on at that moment.

I thought of my father whose absence put me in the home of my mother's ancestry. His Hispanic upbringing was the one I identified with my whole life, right up until the moment I arrived onto the reservation. It was like the streets and fumes of New York and the grief it reminded me of had evaporated into nothing but a fever dream as the sound of swaying conifers filled my ears. The delicate grip of my grandmother's hand in mine reminded me that this was now my reality, that I was not transitioning from one nightmare into a happier dream.

I could feel it in my heart: the drums beating like the rhythm of blood in my chest, the sound of crashing waves and the smell of fresh rain were sensations that belonged to me as if they were embedded into my very being.

I made it my goal not to be Amaya Hernandez. I made it my goal to be Amaya Turner - the girl I’ve wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. A factor of this story that I was really passionate about including in this fanfiction was an authentic representation of Quileute culture. Everything that I'll be including in this story has been found on the Quileute nation's website, as well as informational videos. I am not a member of the Quileute tribe and I am just hoping to provide a different aspect of their beautiful culture that we don't see in the Twilight novels and movies.
> 
> Please leave comments and reviews! I love to hear criticism and what you guys think. Hope you enjoyed!


	3. To Quell a Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya's love for La Push deepens as its secrets begin to unfold, starting at her mother's old home on the rez. Things will get heated as she learns another side to the rez boys.

After the Healing Circle, I hardly spent any time at all in Forks. My days began hearing Malcolm and Mom chatting in the living room. When I would go downstairs, there’d always be a different reason why he was coming to take me to La Push. “Grandma needs help making salmon” or “Grandma needs help sorting some old things” were the kind of things he’d tell me. Regardless, I’d learned to shower the night before and leave my clothes ready for a day at La Push. It was an unspoken agreement between me and Grandma: she would send Malcolm and I’d come ready to learn all she wanted to teach me.

Mom would hang back and do paperwork and bills that needed to be finished. I’d go over to the rez and once I learned not to be so squeamish, would gut freshly caught fish. I would help her prepare it into dinner until it was ready to bake in the oven. While the house filled with the smell of hearty, home-cooked food from the kitchen, Grandma would introduce me to all the things of my culture I had never been exposed to back in the city.

Taking me upstairs, Grandma and I walked past an upstairs parlor of plastic-covered couches and a well-used pool table. On the right, next to a small dated bathroom with pink tile, was a little girl’s room. The bed was a small twin-size, its quilt made from scraps of colored and patterned fabric. A chestnut vanity was kept in pristine order with several aged beauty products, like cheap bottles of perfume and make-up compacts from brands I had never heard of. There was a small sewing kit next to multi-colored butterfly hair clips, bottles of ‘Hard Candy’ nail polish and body glitter, their contents aging harshly from lack of use. Grandma had taken care not to touch any of my mother’s belongings from back in the ’90s, almost as if she’d come back and find a use for all of these things.

Polaroid pictures had been tucked into the vanity mirror’s edge. Among them was a photo of a girl and boy with a similar length of ashen-brown hair, their strands bunched into dark locks saturated with water. They sat on a towel amidst gravelly sand and wore wetsuits as they kneeled over a surfboard with wax in their hands. Their smiles were bright against the Polaroid flash, their laughter frozen against time. Stickers of red hearts were placed on the white space underneath their happy faces.

“Malcolm and Jenny,” Grandma murmured, "Back when they would surf at First Beach."

I couldn’t believe it. Mom didn’t think to take any pictures with her when she moved away from the rez. I had never seen my mother young and worry-free like she was as happy as she could ever be. Something comforted me in knowing that Malcolm could bring a smile to my mom's face that I hadn't seen in all the years of my existence.

The wooden figurines scattered across the vanity looked even more ancient and alien than the bottles of unused cosmetics and perfumes. From among them, Grandma picked up a carved stick with something that looked like a dragon’s face at the end.

“A wolf rattle,” she commented, “I made this one for Jenny a long time ago. The legends go that the Quileutes are descended from wolves.”

“I remember reading about that,” I said, taking the rattle into my hand. It was painted with colorful blues and reds.

“Take it,” Grandma smiled. “I want you to have it. One of these days, I’ll show you how to carve one yourself.”

Opening the armoire adjacent to the mirror, she revealed baby clothes neatly put away on small, cardboard hangers. Not much else could have remained there since my mother had done well to pack all of her clothes before her breakaway from the rez. Under the clothes were boxes on the floor of the wardrobe. Grandma opened it and produced a bright red blanket with black tassels on its hem.

“This is a blanket we use for a rowing dance,” she explained. She pulled out a small paddle with blue paint and figures painted on it, “This is the oar I made for your mom.”

She pointed to the imagery on it. The figure was curled like a crescent moon with a red fin rising from its back, and it had oblong eyes and soft, square teeth.

“The Quileute have clans. We come from the _sábas_ , the orca clan, and the eagle, _pi-ka-duck clan_. This is the orca one. I made an eagle blanket for your uncle when he was young, too.”

Fascinated with my grandmother’s handiwork and its meaning, it made sense why I couldn’t just Google my way into understanding my culture or why my mom couldn’t explain it to me. All of the things I needed to know were here with Grandma. Every day it would go on as so, excavating the many treasures of mother’s youth and learning more about the tribe as we did. There was always a deeper, intricate meaning to the objects that was only meant for the Quileute to understand and cherish.

We’d finish as soon as the fish bake was done. Mom would drive from Forks usually on time for dinner, and we’d sit, three generations of Turners, talking about the reservation and the Turner family.

Once, Grandma pulled out a frayed scrapbook, showing me pictures of my mother and uncle smiling toothily with fish they had just caught, or her and my grandfather on their wedding day. I learned that they had separated just a year after my mom left to New York and Grandpa took my then-teenage uncle with him. My heart ached to know my family was broken in more ways than I originally thought. I wondered if the pieces of the Turner family would start to come together as our we settled our roots into the reservation.

Just as I would bond with Grandma alone, Grandma and Mom would sit on the porch with the front door shut behind them. The day would end hearing the laughter and hushed murmurs through the walls of the living room before falling asleep on the couch and being woken to go back to Forks. And so the cycle repeated over the course of a few weeks.

One day, I was sitting in the living room while Mom and Grandma had their usual chat on the porch. Using a pattern my Grandma taught me, I was poorly weaving together a beaded bracelet when I got a call from a number I didn’t know.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, it’s Quil,” he greeted. “You remember me, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said.

“Cool. Um, would you wanna come down for a bonfire? At La Push?” He asked.

I was a little nervous to go down to the beach with the boys, seeing as how I didn’t know them too well. But I knew life was uneventful at Forks, and my visits to Grandma could have used a little variation from its routine.

“Uh, sure. I’ll ask,” I said, knocking on the front door and opening it. I pressed my phone to my chest.

“Mom, Grandma? Do you think I could go to the beach with the boys I met at the circle?” I asked.

Grandma shot Mom a hesitant glance and said, “Sam and them?”

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Sure,” Mom immediately allowed. “Is your phone charged?”

I nodded and went inside to grab my jacket.

“Yeah, do you think you could come get me at my Grandma’s?” I asked Quil on the phone.

He agreed, and within a few minutes, Quil had walked up to the front of the house. I walked out onto the porch to find Quil, Mom and Grandma stiffly placed around one another. Grandma’s warmth turned into an iron wall once Quil arrived.

“Go on, Maya,” Grandma said and shot a cold gaze on Mom. “Be home soon.”

Quil and I wordlessly walked further from the house, distancing ourselves from the awkward tension back at the porch.

“Sorry about that,” I said, wiping my palms on the front of my jeans.

“It’s cool.” Quil shrugged. “Is your grandma okay with you going out?”

“I mean, I guess. She’s just nervous. Probably ‘cause my mom got pregnant in high school,” I said.

God, why did I say that? Quil wouldn’t have known how to react to that. My face warmed as I grasped for something else to talk about.

I cleared my throat. “But it’s fine. She’s happy I’m talking to people on the rez.”

“I get it. Jacob and Embry will be there tonight. Some of the guys we know,” Quil said.

“Cool,” I said.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been sleeping so much lately since I got a new job. I work the graveyard shift. Like, all night, pretty much," he rambled.

“That’s crazy,” I said in disbelief as I looked up at him. “How do you make that work?”

“I don’t. As soon as I get home I have to go to school. Then I do all of my homework during class, then I go home and knock out, and then I have to do it all over again,” he said with a laugh.

“Why not work during the afternoon?” I asked.

He shook his head, his smile stiffening into an awkward smirk. “There’s no other shifts open, I guess. I swear it’s worth it. What about you? How’s school in Forks?” he asked quickly, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“I’m taking a gap year,” I revealed.

“Wow. You graduated?” he asked with a smile.

“Yeah. All done." I smiled back.

We began nearing some wooden steps that trailed to the beach. I could see a bright bundle of light nestled under some wood, a small group crowding near it. Other than that, the place was to ourselves.

“Are you always at your grandma’s?” he asked. 

“Pretty much. Malcolm picks me up almost every morning,” I said.

“Maybe you can come by my place sometime,” Quil offered lowly, “You’d be a much better use of my time.”

I nearly missed a step upon hearing his words. Before I could reach for the railing to stop my fall, Quil grabbed my hand. His other hand was placed firmly on the small of my back to help me steady myself. As I regained my balance, I felt something blazing warm in my palm. To my surprise, it was Quil’s skin was burning against my own. I saw his hand trailing onto my hip as he pulled away. I looked into his eyes, feeling his torso close to my own and realizing his face was only inches from mine.

“Whoa,” I breathed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand still in mine.

“Yeah, I just thought... ” I gathered myself, pulling my hand away. “I’m fine.”

I was confused as to how or why I had been taken so aback by what he said. I could only find it harmless on second thought. I snuck a glance at Quil, who kept his eyes on his feet as we descended the stairs. Sure, he was tall and lean, packing a bit of muscle around his arms. Moderately attractive around the face, even. My heart felt high in my throat at the realization as Quil and I continued our walk towards the beach.

Embry whooped and the surrounding boys turned to look our way as we approached. Quil whooped back and gave a wave. Even though I did a good job of keeping good composure at the circle, I had a small doubt I'd be able to do it again at the bonfire as my heart pounded hard against my chest. Among a few boys I didn't recognize, I could see Jacob giving me flat stare from his seat before turning his attention towards the fire. 

“Guys, this is Maya,” Embry introduced me to the unfamiliar boys that were circled around the fire.

I waved and smiled.

“I’m Seth,” the youngest-looking boy smiled back, his teeth bright and pearly. He was smaller in stature compared to the rest of the boys, but it only made him look like he was of my own age. The other who I assumed was Paul had his stare held on me, stiff and unnerving.

It was starting to feel like the rez boys could be broken up into two different kinds of people: the ones who were friendly and the ones who looked like they wanted to spill your guts.

I sat next to Quil on a log.

“Where’s Leah?” Quil asked, turning his head towards Seth.

“I think we all agree it’d better if she didn’t join us,” Paul snorted. “For Jake and Embry’s sake, really.”

“Who’s Leah?” I asked.

“Seth’s sister,” Jacob answered. I looked up at him, surprised to hear him speak. His jaw was clenched as he averted his eyes from me and back to the fire.

“I thought we were giving her a chance,” Seth said, looking around at all the boys as his shoulders slumped at Paul’s tone.

“Dude, she is such a jerk,” Embry complained, flinging a large chunk of firewood into the pit. “I wish she would go solo. Like, if it’d be possible for a few days, that would be great.”

“That’s on Sam,” Paul said with a scoff. 

“That’s not his fault. We need all the help we can get," Seth argued. Even if I didn't know her personally, it was admirable he felt the need to defend his sister.

“Can’t he just tell her not to come?” Embry asked. “I'm tired of dealing with her whining every night.”

“Wait, you all work together? Quil told me he works a graveyard shift," I mentioned.

Quil shifted in his seat on the log. “Well…”

“Nice going." Paul rolled his eyes. “What bullshit do I have to come up with now? That we work at Walmart?”

“...I’m sorry?” I asked. His disrespectful tone made my stomach turn. I immediately regretted I had said anything about Quil's job, especially if it meant yet another tense confrontation. 

“Shit, babe, how clueless are you? You ever heard of those before?” His tone was heavy with condescension. 

“Shut up, Paul,” Quil said as he rose from his seat. “I thought this was gonna be a chill kickback.”

“No one told you to bring her,” Paul stood up and gestured to me. “Next time you wanna do something without asking us, I want you to think about me breaking your nose out of place."

I felt a twinge of anger having arrived only to find out I wasn’t welcome at the bonfire to begin with. Quil opened his mouth to speak, but I got to my feet before he could say anything. I wouldn’t let Paul disrespect him or me.

“I’ll leave,” I gave in, gesturing back to Paul. “I’m tired of looking at this shithead anyway.”

Paul jutted his arm forward at me into a punch. Seth, Embry, and Quil rose quickly to hold him back by his shoulders. His face turned into a grimace, his lips curling at his teeth as he breathed heavily. Jacob got up from his seat, putting himself in the space between Paul and I.

“Dude, calm down,” Quil urged, doing his best to keep his hold on him.

Paul yelled, “Does your dad pay her by the hour?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Maya,” Jacob warned, “Turn around and go home.”

“I’m asking about your mother, you bitch,” Paul jeered. He wrestled against Embry and Quil who urged him to stop.

“You can go _fu_ -” I began, ready to give my best swing at his throat, regardless of how tall he was. The next thing I knew, a hot hand clamped over my mouth before I could say anything.

“Walk with me,” Jacob ordered.

He strode in the opposite direction of the bonfire with his arm around my waist and his hand on my mouth, forcing me to follow along. I struggled against his grasp as my feet involuntarily moved in the direction of his own, kicking up damp sand as we strode away from the fire. His hand moved away from my mouth to hoist me over his shoulder and I screamed, a shrill sound into the night that carried above the sound of the ocean crashing. My heart raced, my anger turning into fear. I started kicking against him, trying my best to get free. His walk turned into a jog, and then a run.

“Let me _go_!” I screamed, jostling against his shoulder.

He cast me off his shoulder after moments of useless struggling and screaming on my part. I collapsed onto the gravelly sand and looked up at him in fear.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I scrambled to my feet, “What was that for?” Moving my gaze towards the bonfire, I could see the fire was only a dot in the distance. Faraway shouting echoed from the other end of the shore. How did we get so far in so little time?

“I don’t know how things worked in New York, but it’s time you learn how things work on the rez. When a guy twice your size decides to pick on you, you take a hit and shut up," Jacob chastised as he jutted a finger at me.

“What the hell does that mean?” I panted the words.

“You almost got yourself killed!” he shouted, stepping towards me with his chest only a few inches from my face. “Could you not see him ready to deck you in the face? Why are you picking fights with someone who is double your size?”

“It’s not my fault he can’t take what he gives. He insulted my _mother_ ,” I countered, attempting to shove him back. His chest felt a feverish wall, immovable against my best attempt to push him away. “What’s his problem with me, anyway?”

He said through clenched teeth, “He has a temper. That’s it.”

I felt my breath quicken in anger as I asked, “So what the fuck would he know about my mom? Talking about her as if she was some prostitute my dad knocked up?”

“Rumors,” he glowered at me, his jaw taut as he got out the words, “Just rumors.”

I scoffed, trying to process the information before me. The welcoming we got at the Healing Circle and the warmth of all the people I could consider family and friends on the rez was not as it seemed. These people, the ones I’ve been reunited with after seventeen years of being held away from them, had been spreading slander about my mother and father.

“I’ll tell you something about your rumors. My mother ran to New York because she loved my dad. He _loved_ her. I think I can see why she took her chances on running far away from home. My life would have been hell if I had to be surrounded by people talking shit about me and my family all the time," I shot at him.

Jacob scowl stayed fixed on his face as he crossed his arms.

“Why am I trying to explain myself to you? You’re the one who was so eager to make an idiot of me at the circle. Now I get it - why you called me ‘fast’.”

He stiffly turned his back to me and sighed, rubbing at his face in exasperation.

“No, that’s not why,” Jacob said, the harshness of his tone softening. “I was a dick. I’m sorry.”

I refused to accept his apology, settling for maintaining silence as I began to walk towards the fire pit. He began to follow me, his long gait effortlessly keeping up with my hastened walk. 

Unsatisfied with my response, he attempted to reassure me. “I said I’m sorry. Me and Sam are going to give Paul hell for what he said.”

“Sam should find a way to give you both hell after what you’ve said to me,” I spat, tightening my arms around my chest.

“Maya, I didn’t mean what I said at the circle. I didn’t know people were calling your mom ‘fast’,” Jacob defended himself.

“The hell you didn’t,” I scoffed.

Several moments passed with the sound of heavy waves crashing and Jake’s heavy boots trudging in the pebble-like sand of La Push. The sea breeze lashed against my hair and face, pushing tears against my cheekbones. I kept the eyes fixed on the fire like a star on my sandy horizon - I refused to look at Jacob and only wanted to go home.

“Maya, I really had no idea that there were rumors. Sam pulled me aside at the circle because he didn’t want me giving you the wrong impression. He knew the rumors more than I did. He wanted to prevent you feeling this way and I fucked it all up,” Jacob explained.

“So why be so rude to me in the first place?” I shrugged, “Just ‘cause you felt like it?”

He rushed, “It’s personal, okay? It’s a shitty thing to say but you looked scared and I was pissed so I took it out on you.”

We were finally at the bonfire. The fire was hot, blazing and eating away at bits of driftwood. The blaze unraveled itself into smoke as it exhausted itself at peak warmth until it would die into its embers.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I’m not gonna sit here and put everything that happened tonight aside. I had to stand up for my parents. You have to get that.”

“So don’t apologize,” he shook his head and added softly. “I’m sorry I was an asshole at the circle. I’m sorry I told you to take the hit. I just freaked out because you were about to get seriously hurt. But that’s not your fault. Paul was being an ass.”

I allowed his apology to process. Jacob had a ways to go in terms of being polite or friendly. While he was doing his best to make it up to me, I couldn’t help but still feel pissed off at him for being disrespectful.

“We’ll start over. I’m Jake. You’re Maya,” he offered.

“Can I call you ‘asshole’ instead?” I blurted.

To my surprise, he smiled. The orange light from the fire washed over his copper skin, his lips curling away from his teeth softly.

“Can I call you stubborn?” he said.

“I’d rather call you Jake,” I said begrudgingly.

“Then it’s settled.” His lips pursed again, the warmth fading slightly from his face as his thoughts consumed him again. “Let’s go home.”

Jacob picked up a plastic bucket of water that sat adjacent to a log. He poured it over the strong flames, steam rising from their collision. The sizzling embers were all that remained afterward, the breeze lifting some of them into the air like glowing sprites. He put stones into the bucket to keep it from blowing away and set it by the fire.

A drizzle began to settle over us as we silently started making our way back to my grandma’s house. I tried my best to remember the general direction Quil and I came from, seeing an illuminated porch further up ahead. I figured that was most likely it. With the rain picking up, I started to quicken my pace towards the house. Jake started to jog and I attempted to match his pace, although I could barely keep up with him.

When we reached Grandma’s front porch, Mom and Grandma were sitting patiently on their lawn chairs. Mom's face was creased with worry lines as she rose to greet Jacob and I, but Grandma stayed in her seat. Her aging face was sinking against her frown.

“Maya,” Mom said, “I was just about to call you.”

“Hello, Jacob,” Grandma greeted. She held the same iron stare she gave Quil against him.

“Hi, Mrs. Turner,” he said cordially.

“What happened to Quil?” she grilled, raising an eyebrow.

“Quil and the guys made a run to their truck because of the rain. There wasn’t any room for me or Amaya,” he said.

“Do you want a ride home?” Mom asked, crossing her arms.

“No, it’s fine. I can make a run for it from here,” he gave a short wave to all of us. We said our goodbyes as Jacob jogged off of the porch, unaffected by the steady rain that was falling over him. We stepped back into the house, shutting the front door behind us. Grandma walked towards the living room and turned on the T.V.

“No love bites on him, that’s a start,” she groaned as she sat down on the couch. My stomach flipped at Grandma’s remark. Jacob and I were far from being attracted to one another. Somehow, she assumed Jake and I were up to the exact opposite knowing we had only just met.

“Ma,” Mom groaned.

“I have my reasons.” Grandma gave a hard stare at Mom before turning to me. “Maya, I’m trusting you didn’t do anything with that boy.”

“I didn’t, Grandma,” I said, feeling my brows knit together. I knew Grandma was strict with my mom back in the day, doing her best to prevent Mom from seeing boys - a plan which obviously failed. I didn’t think the same treatment would be applied to me.

Mom gave me a glare from the entryway and jerked her head to the door, a signal for us to leave. I looked over at Grandma, who kept her attention on the TV screen. I walked over to her and gave her a hug. She weakly put a hand on my shoulder in return.

“Bye,” I said meekly.

Grandma said nothing in return. Mom shut the door behind us and we escaped the cold spell Grandma had put on the house as we walked further away from it.

“What happened with Grandma?” I asked.

Mom shook her head and sighed. “Grandma’s just been worried about you.”

“Why?” I asked, “Did something happen?”

We got in the rental. She turned the ignition on, letting the engine purr as the heat started to fan through the car.

Mom explained, “She doesn’t like Quil and his friends, Maya. She kept going on all night about how they were dangerous.”

I thought about Paul, his fist held back from turning into a would-be punch. If any of them was dangerous, it was Paul. The rest of the boys were eager to hold him back from hurting me. I couldn’t see how either of them could find a reason to hurt me if Paul was the only one with a severe temper.

“I don’t know about that, Mom,” I answered.

She sucked in her teeth. “I don’t know, either, Maya. But I don’t know if I want you seeing them anymore.”

I scoffed. For a moment, I wanted to tell her that I could certainly see why. The rez boys seemed to be pettier than I thought. I was willing to forgive Jacob, but I couldn’t help but feel angry at the gossip that had been spread about my mother. I almost let myself slip, ready to tell her what had been said, but knew better. Mom would take these rumors to heart knowing that they were being used as insults by the sons of close family friends.

Mom turned to me with her eyebrows turned up into worry. She said, “I get that it’s fun being on the rez, Maya. I know what it’s like to go to bonfires with friends and all that. But throughout all of that, I want you to be safe. ”

“Is this about sex?” I rolled my eyes.

“No,” Mom gave in, “Okay, maybe she was a little worried about you having sex. But the boys themselves are dangerous. Grandma made that very clear.”

“Alright, so let’s just not tell Grandma,” I said with shrug. “It’s not like you ever had a problem with me going out with guys.”

“I know, I know,” she groaned, “But just… consider making other friends.”

“But why?” I asked.

“Because I want us to have a good relationship with Grandma and tonight went very, very badly.” Her voice shook as her eyes welled with tears.

“Are you okay?” I asked, putting my hand on hers.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Let’s just go home.”

I knew there was more to what Mom was saying than she was letting on. For her sake, I didn’t want to push it any further. That night, Mom didn’t drive as tense as usual, with her eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Instead, she drove with a glazed stare like getting away from the rez was all she knew how to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what else you'd like to see from the story or just general thoughts (good or bad, either is always appreciated).


	4. Close Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya comes in contact with the rez boys as her grandmother puts up a cold front. She's given Jacob a second chance, but how well will that hold up?

The night we came back from La Push, Mom retreated to her office space and remained there for the next two days. She became absorbed in her sketchbook, referring to her designing program as she mapped out her future plans for our home. During that time, Mom refused to offer an explanation as to what happened the night I left to the bonfire. I would bring her breakfast, lunch, and dinner in her study, hoping to coax a conversation from her but she would get visibly frustrated. I became anxious at Mom’s sudden mental shift. I could feel her slipping away from me like she used to back in the city, back in our days of mourning.

In the meantime, Malcolm remained absent from his usual role as my morning ride to the rez. I was hesitant to call Grandma up myself and pay her a visit, knowing that the cold shoulder she gave us as we left wasn’t exactly an invitation to come back. Lacking other options, I called Malcolm up anyway and explained what happened, highlighting the fact I left the house to Grandma’s disapproval and Mom’s sudden refusal to leave her study.

“Is your mom okay?” he asked, “Eating, sleeping?”

“She's eating, but I've hardly seen her sleep. I haven’t seen her like this since my dad passed. I don’t know what to do. It’s like she doesn’t even want to talk about what happened," I explained.

Malcolm sighed and said, “Your grandma can be rough with her words. They probably got into a fight. I’ll come over after work and see what’s the matter.”

He came over late at night, just as soon as I had brushed my teeth for bed. I watched from the top of the stairs as Mom hugged him tightly as if she were grateful to be in his arms. She sobbed into his leather jacket as he ran his hands over her back soothingly. For a minute, I could have sworn I was in our old apartment, watching Thomas Hernandez love my mom as much as a husband could. I turned away, selfishly hoping no one would replace his distant memory.

I left them to pop open some beers he had brought. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t make out what they were saying from the kitchen. But that night after he had left, I heard her open her bedroom door and shut it, a sign that she was finally getting some rest.

On top of being worried about Mom, I couldn’t help but feel anxious about how Grandma wanted to keep me away from the rez boys. Back home, all I had to do was to be back by ten, use a condom, and not to do any hard-drinking or drugs. My life was kept simple enough for me to enjoy the boundary between fun and dangerous, all while staying safe and keeping my parents content.

But now, Grandma looked to change that simplicity by wanting to impose new rules, unspoken ones, that my mom probably dealt with when she was my age. Ones that Mom obviously disobeyed.

The third morning after the bonfire, I sat at the kitchen table sipping some fresh, hot coffee. Looking up from my mug, I saw Mom gingerly making her way to the fridge with her pink robe wrapped tightly around her. She pulled a carton of milk from the fridge and a box of cereal from a cabinet. To my relief, she was finally eating a meal without my insisting.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked.

Mom turned to me and nodded, smiling weakly in response. Her dark-circles were like bruised, crescent moons on her face. The rest of her face appeared to sag against her exhaustion. She looked out the kitchen windows that offered a view of the backyard, spooning food from the bowl in her hand and chewing deliberately. Her fluffy slippers shuffled against the floor as she put her bowl in the sink and retired again to her room. I hoped she was catching up on sleep instead of obsessively designing the house.

To my surprise, Quil called early in the afternoon. He wanted to know if I was okay after Paul had his outburst at the beach. I explained that I was fine, apart from what happened between my mom and Grandma.

“I’m really sorry about what Paul said. He just picks up on all the crap his dad says. I don’t want you to think we all go around saying those things about your family,” Quil said.

“I’d hope not,” I said.

“I’ll be honest, okay? I was hearing about a fast girl named Jenny but we were all too busy to care, or even have a face to put to the name. The only one of us who knew your Mom was Sam, and he made sure all of us knew the rumors were garbage,” Quil explained.

“I get it. Look, I’m just not cool with Paul. I’m willing to give Jacob a second chance after he apologized to me. Between me, you, him and Embry, we’re good," I reassured him.

He sighed. “Great. ‘Cause I wanted to invite you over, if that’s okay.”

“I’m not at the rez,” I explained, “Mom and Gran got into a fight about me going out with you guys - she kept worrying about me getting into stuff like sex or danger, I don't know. Something crazy like that. She hasn’t asked Malcolm to come and take me to the rez.”

“Does she know about what happened with Paul?” he asked.

“No, thankfully,” I answered.

Quil said, “I could go get you right now. I promise that there won’t be any orgies happening down at La Push.”

I laughed and added ironically, “Yeah, you’re right. That makes everything good.”

“See? Fixed your problem,” Quil said with a laugh. “Listen, I just got a good twelve hours of sleep. Jacob and Embry are coming over to my place and we want to make it up to you after Paul freaked out.”

I rolled my eyes. “And just disappear on my mom?”

“It’s not like she’s the one who has a problem with us. Your grandma doesn’t have to know.”

I sighed, “Fine. Maybe Grandma could kick my ass over it later.”

“On my way. Bye,” Quil said.

We hung up and I texted him my address. Back in the city, I’d leave Mom to work and post a note on the fridge saying where I’d be. Considering I used to do it all the time, I saw no problem with doing the same at the moment. Ripping out a piece of paper from a small notebook I had, I took a pen and scribbled down a note.

_I’m at La Push with Quil, Embry, and Jacob. Get some rest._

I freshened up by washing my face and brushing my teeth. I had to get changed out of my pajamas and put on something decent. I decided jeans, thick socks and a turtleneck under my corduroy jacket would keep me warm enough against the brisk rain. I combed out my hair, feeling displeased with the plain girl in the mirror. I quickly twisted off the cap to my lip gloss and dabbed the applicator on my lips. For added measure, I blended some concealer under my eyes and a coat of mascara on my lashes.

Going downstairs, I decided to make a quick sandwich for Mom. I headed back upstairs from the kitchen and cautiously opened the door to her bedroom. She was rolled onto her side, tucked into her duvet and breathing evenly in her slumber. I placed the plate quietly onto her bedside table with the note placed just under it.

Just then, my phone buzzed. I whipped it out to see the notification.

 

 

Quil  
  
Here

I tucked my cellphone into my pocket and gently shut her bedroom door. I got my boots from my closet and laced them on. Once downstairs, I grabbed my keys from a dish and shut the back door slowly behind me.

I jogged to the front of the house where I saw a blue pick-up truck standing on the curb. As I reached the sidewalk, I could see Quil sitting in the front seat of the car. I got in and buckled my seatbelt, shutting the door behind me.

“It’s about time,” Quil said with a teasing smile.

“Sorry I took so long. I was a little busy sneaking out,” I said.

“You’re crazy,” Quil chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m just joking. I mean, I didn’t tell her I left. But she shouldn’t care." I waved it off.

He shifted the gears of the car and the engine started purring its way to La Push Road.

“My mom would kill me. She hates letting me leave the house,” he said.

“I used to go out all the time without telling my mom,” I recalled.

“Even with guys?” Quil asked with a sense of surprise.

“Yeah, all the time," I answered.

“You got, like, a boyfriend at home?” He asked hesitantly.

“What? No,” I said. I felt butterflies but attempted to ignore them. 

“Just asking.” He shook his head. “I haven’t had a girlfriend. There hasn’t been any time.”

“I know what you mean,” I said.

When my dad passed, every area in my life had to shut down and start back up again. Liking boys was one of the areas in my life I hadn’t started back up. At the time, Mom herself had exiled herself from the world. There were days she wouldn’t eat or shower, days when I didn’t know if I could either. Someone had to keep us together, someway. I made myself that person.

“Did you guys run off to Walmart after Paul’s tantrum?” I joked to change the subject.

Quil laughed. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Seriously, you guys all have the same job?” I asked, “Same shifts?”

“More or less. There really aren’t any jobs in Forks or La Push. You have to go to Port Angeles, you know, in case you were looking for a job," Quil explained.

“I’m good for now. I hated my retail job back home,” I said.

“That reminds me, I have to ask you something. There’s another rumor going around, but it’s not really a bad one.” Quil said.

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Can I ask if you’re rich?” he asked.

“I don’t know. That’s kind of a fun secret,” I teased.

“What, is your dad Banksy or something?” 

I laughed. “No! He was just a normal guy.”

Quil clucked his tongue. “You’re right. It was a fun secret.”

I smiled at him and shrugged. “I mean, doing anything on the East Coast is way more expensive than here."

He turned off the ignition as I realized the long dirt road we were driving on was actually a driveway that led to a shabby, one-story house. The door to the garage was open, two familiar-looking boys on the inside.

Quil got out and whooped at the boys. They whooped back.

“Do I get to do that now?” I asked.

“Sure, give it a try,” he allowed.

I tried to whoop at the boys, a two-toned call. It came out a little weaker than theirs, my voice cracking somewhere in the middle. The boys all laughed and I did, too.

Jacob hunched himself over the hood of the car, a toolbox of stained, silver tools next to him. Music played from the inside of the car, the sound of energetic electric guitar filling the garage.

“So you’re working on a car today?” I asked.

“Yep. Embry picked it up from a guy not too long ago,” Quil said.

“It looks like something from Tokyo Drift,” I commented.

The boys laughed.

“Not gonna lie, it’s kind of why I wanted it. It’s ten years old, though. It’s got a lot of miles," Embry said.

“No clue what that means, but I’ll pretend I do,” I said.

“Don’t you have a car?” Jacob asked. Surprisingly enough, his voice lacked malice.

“She doesn’t know how to drive. You weren’t there when she told us," Quil smiled amusedly.

“Let’s teach her.” Embry proposed the idea with a smirk.

“Seriously?” Quil asked with a raised eyebrow and added eagerly, “Let’s get in my car right now.”

The boys grinned and looked at each other.

“You want me to drive?” I asked in disbelief.

“I swear it’s easier than it looks. Let’s go," he said, and waved us to the direction of his car.

Jacob pushed the hood shut and Embry started walking away from the garage. Quil got out his keys.

“You trust me? With your car?” I asked.

"It's not exactly pretty. Just don't crash it," he said. Quil waved me over to his car as he got into the passenger seat. Embry and Jacob got in the back seat. I groaned, jogging over to the driver’s side of the car. Quil handed me the key.

“Start it,” he said, patting the dashboard.

“You guys are crazy,” I said, putting the key in the ignition.

I pulled my seatbelt over my shoulder and turned the engine over.

Quil moved the center mirror a little lower. “Make sure you can see the back window through the mirror. Is that better?”

I adjusted it myself, seeing a glimpse of Embry and Jake's hesitant faces in the mirror. “Yeah, I can see.”

Quil pointed to the console and said, “Put the car in reverse. See how it’s in ‘park’? Shift it down a notch. Foot on the brake.”

Palms sweaty, I moved the stick down to the ‘R’ on the console.

“Now, let go of the brake,” Jacob said.

“She’s gonna kill us all,” Embry joked.

I groaned. I eased my foot off the brake, the car slowly moving backward.

“Okay, foot on the brake again,” Quil said.

“Turn the car the opposite way you wanna drive,” Jacob instructed.

My hands stood still on the wheel for a moment, unsure on whether to go left or right. Jacob reached to the front, putting his hand over mine.

“Like this, keep turning, foot on the brake. Do not let go of the brake,” he urged.

“Okay, okay,” I said, feeling the warmth of his face on my shoulder but not taking my eyes off the front windshield.

“Now, into drive,” Jake said as he leaned back into the backseat a little more, moving the gearshift for me to the ‘D’. “Let go of the brake a little.”

I did, and the car started moving forward. Embry shrieked. My hands were sweaty on the wheel, still internally panicking but somehow enjoying myself.

“Shut up!” Quil yelled through his laughter. “She’s doing okay.”

The car started moving forward to a separate path to the main road, one that led away from the driveway. I kept my hands firmly on the wheel, turned to the way Jacob showed me.

“Why are we taking her on the main road?” Embry asked.

“Embry,” I began, “I will stop this car just to kick you out of it.”

The boys laughed as the car slowly came to the main road. I put my foot on the brake.

“Your way is clear,” Quil said as he moved a lever up next to the wheel. “Turn signal is on.”

I let my foot a little bit off of the brake until a car appeared.

“Stop,” Jacob urged. I scrambled for the brake, but something didn’t feel right. The car suddenly lurched forward at a much faster speed. All of a sudden, I heard a loud beeping noise, the sound of a car telling me to pay attention, and I saw us speeding onto the grass of somebody else’s lawn. Quil jerked the emergency brake up. Embry was screaming in mock horror through his laughter.

“Oh my god,” Jacob groaned, laughing along with him. I stood frozen in the front seat, having driven onto somebody else’s lawn my first time driving.

“Okay, I’m done driving,” I chuckled along, getting out of the driver’s seat. Quil moved from the passenger’s side to my own as I switched with him.

While the boys and I laughed at my dangerous mistake, I couldn’t help but feel a defied a serious odd. I thought about how my mom would have been deathly afraid of seeing me drive. She would have never let me touch the wheel of a car again seeing as how I made a serious slip-up just then. Quil pulled us back into the driveway, all smiles on the boys’ faces as they joked about the mishap. My face stilled. I didn’t find it funny anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Embry asked.

“Nothing,” I said, “I’m fine.”

“We were all just joking,” Quil reasoned.

“No, it’s not that,” I managed a smile, “It’s just the shock, I guess.”

I was fortunate someone was paying enough attention to the road. I remembered my father’s smile, the wave he would give me from his car those few mornings he had enough time to drive me. Some people just didn’t have that kind of luck.

* * *

Jacob threw down a tool on the table, sighing as he took a seat on a dirty beanbag. Embry, Quil and I sat with a fresh box of pizza, passing paper plates around. Quil opened a box of soda, giving a can to each of us. I slipped a finger under the tab, the soda hissing as it opened. Even though it was closed now that the rain had picked up, I could still feel the cold air slipping in from under the garage door. The rhythm of rain beating down on the roof was a familiar sound to me now, having heard it almost every night at my home in Forks.

“That car,” Jacob said, chewing on his slice, “is a piece of shit.”

“I know,” Embry said, “Even though I’ve barely touched it today.”

“No offense, when I ask this, but is there anything else you guys do for fun?” I asked.

Quil answered, “Cliff-diving.”

“Cliff-diving? Aren’t there rocks you could hit?”

“Not too much, if you know where to jump,” Embry said, “We only do that sometimes.”

“The water must be freezing,” I commented.

“There really isn’t much else to do. Unless you want to drive an hour to Port Angeles,” Embry explained.

“We should go sometime. I’ll even pay for the gas,” I said.

“Your grandma would freak out if she knew,” Jacob said.

“Hey, what if we went right now?” Quil chimed in.

A phone rang from inside the house. Quil put down his food, going to wherever the sound came from. Embry and Jacob remained quiet. I looked around at each of them, hearing Quil’s voice talk quietly in the background. The boys went still, oddly enough.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Embry waved me off, going still again. I realized by their stillness that they could probably hear everything Quil was saying on the phone. From where I was sitting, I could barely hear a thing.

Quil came back and said, “Embry. Sam needs us.”

“What does he want from me?” Jacob asked.

“He wants you on standby,” Quil said, “But he needs us now.”

“Should I take her home?” Jacob questioned.

“Um…” Quil stopped, looking at Embry and tapping his foot, “Probably. We’ll be awhile.”

“Fine,” Jacob said.

“Catch you later?” Quil walked over and bent down to give me a hug from his side.

“Yeah, hopefully,” I said, waving at Embry who got up.

The two left and I turned to Jacob, feeling my brows knit together as the boys open the garage door and leave. Jacob rose to hit a switch, shutting garage the door behind them.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Jacob replied, “Sam talks with the elders a lot. Sometimes we have to carry stuff to the community center or set up tables. Stuff like that.”

I nodded, although I didn’t understand how that played into his command over the rez boys. He was apparently able to hand out consequences, as Jacob said he would with Paul, and dictate their behavior, like how he asked Jacob not to be rude towards me at the circle. The elders used them for handiwork, sure, but was it needed for Sam to have control over what they did?

I shrugged, “Sam has a lot of say over what you guys do.”

“I know.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m looking to avoid him.”

“Oh,” I said plainly. I swallowed and asked, “Why’s that?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back on the door of the car, shifting on the crate he sat on.

“Come on,” he ignored my question. “I have to take you home.”

Jake grabbed the handle to the heavy garage door, bending over to sweep it open. I followed him outside and he shut it behind us without breaking a sweat. We walked over to a small car, a red car with vintage, square headlights and a hatchback trunk. It creaked open as he got into the front seat, the car sinking under his weight. I opened the door to the passenger seat and got into the senior car.

“Cute car,” I commented.

He snorted and rolled his eyes, “It’s a Volkswagen Rabbit. You might as well start learning a little bit about cars since you’re hanging out with us.”

“It’s even cuter now that I know it’s a bunny,” I joked.

“Alright, I get it. Just please don’t call it that,” he smiled as he turned the ignition. Jacob reversed the small car out of the dirt driveway and put it into drive onto the main road. The car sputtered gently as he began driving away from La Push.

“Can I ask something?” I asked and continued, “Why were you so pissed at the circle? What made you want to take it out on me?”

“I don’t get a lot of sleep. Quil and Embry handle it a lot better than I do,” he explained, “They control themselves, even though they’re as sick of their jobs as I am.”

I bit my lip, watching him turn over to me and cluck his tongue.

“You were just easy to take it out on,” he admitted, staring back at the road. 

“I get it,” I smirked. “Except I'm just as quick to throw something back at you.”

He smiled at me gently, turning his gaze away from the road and back again as his smile met his cheeks. I could see his dark circles deepen against the humor on his face.

“I was surprised you did,” he said, “You looked scared out of your mind when we met.”

I laughed, “Yeah, well, where I’m from I always had to know what to say.”

“I get that," he nodded.

“Even with my friends back home, sometimes I wouldn’t get a break. And sometimes it’s funny and all, but sometimes its like you always have to be on your defense,” I explained.

“Yeah,” Jacob said, “Kind of like… I mean, with the guys and all.”

I looked up at him as his knuckles tightened against the steering wheel, the bright playfulness in his eyes fading into a black stare held to the road.

“Like, how nothing feels sacred, sometimes. You mess around with a girl and no one wants you to forget. It’s almost always impossible to just forget. That’s literally all I wanna do,” he admitted.

My stomach felt like it rose all the way to my throat, watching him stare at the road as his jaw tensed.

“It’s okay,” I told him, “It takes time.”

“Has anyone broken up with you before?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “But they left for a very long time.”

“That’s what happened to me,” he said.

I stared at my lap, the new denim of my jeans contrasting against the peeling leather of the passenger seat.

“When they leave, you feel like you’re frozen, like you’ve just gotten home and found the whole place has been robbed. He robbed me, he took everything I had left, and there was no one to call to fix it,” I said.

I looked up at him through blurred eyes, feeling a pit rise in my throat that didn’t want to move. I tried to forget what I was talking about, to find words that would make things better, for him at the very least.

“You know Embry’s car?” he sighed as his hand clapped the wheel in exasperation. “I’m more interested in fixing it than he is. It’s been such a pain in the ass. Like, if I could go back in time and tell the guy to go a little easier on it and keep the damn thing, maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“It’s not your car,” I said, “Why worry about it?”

I could see his jaw tensing, “It’s not fair to see something that doesn’t run right, not when I know it could be better.”

When I turned to him and caught him looking at me, the hurt in his eyes, it confirmed what I thought - that we were talking about a lot more than a rusted Nissan.

Jacob pressed on the brakes, putting the car into park and turning the ignition off. The rain poured freely on the windshield with the wipers halted on the glass, the sound of pattering rain filling the small space of the vintage car. We were parked in front of my house, back in Forks again. Just beyond that door waited another day of anxiously watching my mother, desperately trying to find a hobby to fill the rainy silence of our house.

Jacob looked down at my lips and up again to my eyes, breathing a sigh through his nose. I looked at his lips, butterflies rising up inside of me. As if my body spoke for me, my hand moved to his thigh slowly. I hadn’t even thought about it until he placed his hand, incredibly warm, on my own.

“Fixing things isn’t easy,” he said, “But it’s all I can do to hope and try.”

I bit my lip, watching as he neared my face, his other hand pushing hair from my face. His thumb brushed my face as he carefully placed it on one side of my neck. He smelled metallic and sharp like gasoline, the scent now stronger with his stained hands on my body. I could feel the heat between us, radiating from his skin. I shut my eyes, feeling his kiss gently brush my lips before a sharp knocking beat against my side window.

I turned around to see my mother’s face angrily staring at me through the glazed glass. She grabbed at the door handle, trying to open the locked door.

“You get the hell out of that car,” she ordered.

My face heated at the interruption and sighed. Jacob’s brows knit together as he looked at me and passed a hand from my face and over to the door console. He unlocked the door, my mother opening it for me as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I stepped out of the car and into the harsh rain, feeling the pattering of quick drops work its way into my dry hair and onto my cheeks.

“Don’t you touch my kid,” she leaned down to make eye-contact with him and jabbed a finger at him, “I know what it is that you do.”

Jacob gaped at my mother, his nose then wrinkling against the curling of his lips against his teeth, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted to make sure she got home safe.”

“Mom,” I interjected as I grabbed her arm. “Don’t talk to him like that.”

“You do not leave this house without my permission again,” Mom said, facing me with a grip on my shoulder. “This isn’t New York anymore. I don’t have to go to work every day. I’m here to know what you’re doing and who you’re going out with.”

She slammed the car door behind her and grabbed my wrist. Mom began marching us towards the front porch as she held her grip on me. I turned back to the Rabbit, Jacob’s figure in the car blurred against window smeared with heavy, pouring rain.

“What are you doing?” I yelled as I tried to pull myself from her.

“I am your mother. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” she asserted, “As if you couldn’t get hurt with those boys. You don’t know what it is that they do, what they wanna do with you, or what kind of men they are.”

“And what would you know about what they do?” I asked, still trying to wrestle myself from her.

“Just shut up, Maya,” she groaned, pushing the ajar front door to the house wide open.

“No, really. Tell me what it is that you know. I didn’t think anything was wrong leaving the house like I did back home. So please, enlighten me,” I demanded, pulling my wrist from her into crossed arms against my chest.

The front door stayed open, the thunder rumbling from the outside against the sound of torrential rain.

“Was I not clear? The night we were at Grandma’s?” Mom asked.

“I don’t think we’d be here if you had been," I snapped.

“You are forgetting that Ma freaked out on me that night saying I had to be harder on you, putting your life at risk with those boys. She made me promise not to let you see them again. Now you’re sneaking out on me to go see them as if that’s going to make any of this any better,” she said, her eyebrows arching in frustration.

“I don’t get what any of this is supposed to mean! I had guy friends back home and I always came back home safe. Are you trying to say I can’t have any now? All because of Grandma, like somehow my chances of getting pregnant rose just by getting off a plane in Seattle?”

“You don’t know what she said to me!” Mom screamed, her arms flailing in exasperation. “All the things she called me, how I wasn’t good enough! I’ve only been home for a few weeks and it’s like I’m disappointing her all over again.”

I argued, “Grandma can worry I’ll end up like you. She can think of me as the worst thing to ever happen to you like I’m some kind of a fucking mistake. But you, you don’t get to do that. You’re the reason why I’m here, why I happened.”

My head turned from the impact of her backhand hitting me across my cheek. She yanked my hair into her fist, her nails scraping along my scalp as she did. I barely managed to stay standing, completely caught off-guard by her physical outburst. Mom pulled at my hair again, trying to kilter my balance and punching the side of my face again.

“ _Hey_ ,” a booming voice raised from the front door. The door was burst wide open. Jacob stood tall in the doorway, the sound of his boots thumping against the floor. He took my mother by the wrist that was curled against my head, her fist releasing me from her painful grip. Jake shifted his weight across the floor to stand in between my mother and I. His large stature remained as a barrier against my crazed mother, who breathed heavily as she stood opposed to him.

I steadied myself, tears streaming down my face. The lump in my throat reappeared for the second time that day. It felt like a scream ready to come out, my breath heaving against the pain that had just been dealt against me. Through blurred eyes, I could see Jacob holding onto my mother tightly in the foyer.

“Don’t you ever,” Jacob began, his face angling to stare into my mother’s eyes, “Don’t you ever touch her again.”

He turned to me and said softly, “Go upstairs, Maya. Lock the door until she calms down.”

All the anger I held against her, all the feelings I knew wouldn’t do any good to throw at her, I wished they would come out against my will. I so badly wanted to win, to let her know I would do as I wanted regardless of whatever my grandmother wanted.

I bounded up the steps and away from the confrontation between Jacob and Mom. I slammed the door to my room shut, locking it behind me. I paced in my room, hoping to calm some of my rage.

 _If I said anything more, it would just make it worse_ , I repeated in my head. _If I hit her back, it would just make it worse_. There was no use in fighting my mother. I should have stayed angry at Jacob and kept the rez boys at a distance to keep this from happening.

Thinking about the moment Jacob had leaned in, his lips almost brushing against mine, got my heart racing. That was the worst part of it all. Now that I knew my mother wanted to keep me away from Jacob, I felt myself panicking at the realization that I wished Jacob had never opened the car door for her. I wanted to go back, to tell Jacob to kiss me and drive fast and far away, as fast as I recklessly had when I was practicing my driving at La Push. I wanted to risk everything for myself and against her.

I curled up in bed, my breath still fast and heavy as I tried to recede away from my anger and into nothingness. I wanted to feel nothing in the place of my need to become a renegade against everything I had been subjected to: my father’s crumpled body locked away in a casket, the burden of her grief, my role as her keeper.

My mother knocked incessantly at my door, shouting my name through its wooden barrier.

“Amaya, open this door right now. Amaya,” she called.

The raindrops on my face and hair were dried against my duvet as I crumpled into it, sobbing as my mother called for me. Her hold on my hair stung as my head rested against my bed, my cheeks throbbing in pain from where her blow met my face. Part of me prayed she wouldn’t find her way into my room past the lock, and part of me prayed that I wouldn’t kill her if she found a way in.

* * *

My cell phone rang in the darkness, my wet face rising from my quilt as I woke to the sound. I saw the screen of my flip-phone blinking on and off against the blackness of my bedroom. Wiping at my face, I realized a number I didn’t know was calling me. I took a few deep breaths to compose myself, sniffling and trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I flipped it open.

“Hello?” I answered nasally.

“Amaya, are you okay?” an urgent voice asked. I heard rustling, like wind whipping against the microphone.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s Jacob.”

“Why are you calling?” I asked.

“I know this is crazy,” he said, “I’m outside and I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry.”

“Jacob, are you serious right now? What the hell are you doing out there?” I asked incredulously, hoping my voice didn't carry.

“I’m the reason why she punched you. I was hearing the whole thing from outside and I stepped in too late, and I know you probably hate me all over again, but I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he rambled.

“I’m fine.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling congested from crying.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

I hissed, “My mom has gone batshit. I don’t think having you here is going to make things better.”

“Amaya, she hit you pretty badly. I need to check on you," he insisted.

I leaned over to my bedside table and turned on the lamp. I then walked to the large window overlooking the street, but I couldn’t see anything through the heavy rain soaking the glass. I unlocked the casement window and its screen to see Jacob with a cell phone pressed to one side of his face, the rain pouring down on him.

“Jacob, go home,” I urged.

He looked around and up, seeing me in the window. Jacob neared the window a little more, sizing up the vantage around it. I saw him jog to the right.

“I’m coming up,” he panted before hanging up. Amazed, I watched his limbs work around the tree. From the branches, he made himself up onto the eave, careful not to lose his balance. I reached my hand out from the window and he grabbed it, lowering his feet into the house.

His t-shirt and jeans were completely soaked through and his hair dripping wet. Jacob worked his hands through his hair, quickly pushing the dripping excess away from his forehead. I closed the casement window and tucked my phone away into my pocket.

“I have to leave soon,” Jacob whispered, “But I needed to know you were okay.”

“You came up here for that?” I asked.

Jacob met my gaze before scanning my face. His brows creased upwards as his eyes stood still on my cheek.

“Shit,” he whispered, “Sit down, Maya.”

He gently put his hands on my shoulders, leading me to the foot of the bed where I gingerly sat down. Jacob’s hand reached to the top of my head, my hair tangled where my mom had pulled at it, and gently let his fingertips graze my tender cheek.

His nose wrinkled and his lips curled away from his teeth in disgust. He breathed deeply and quick, his shoulders shuddering in anger.

I objected, “I didn’t mean for this to get out of hand. I don’t know what’s happened to her since we got here. She’s just… she’s changed.”

“Do you need me? Do you want me to stay and make sure you’re alright?” He asked insistently. 

“It’ll get worse if you stay,” I explained, “I’ll be okay as long as I keep my door locked.”

“I’m not gonna let her hurt you again,” he said through his teeth, his body shivering against his anger, “It wasn’t even your fault.”

My mouth fell agape as I was dumbfounded at him. Something was unsettling, the way his anger was ready to escape his body. I couldn’t explain how he could climb with incomprehensible strength or why he was so empowered to protect me. His brows furrowed, his mouth open to speak but the words staying in his throat. He was holding himself back from saying something.

Jacob got out, “I can’t stay tonight. But I’ll be back tomorrow to make sure you’re okay. If she hits you, just one more time, I’m taking you back to the rez.”

“I just know it wouldn’t help anything,” I murmured.

“It would,” he said, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Not when we all know you’d be happier on the rez.”

I didn’t know who he meant by ‘we all’. He leaned over, his large hand gently cradling my face between his thumb and forefinger, his hot face gracing my sore cheek with a warm kiss.

“I’ll call you. I’ll come and find you,” he said.

At a loss for words, I nodded. I watched him put a tall leg through the open window, fitting himself through the frame and steadying himself again on the eave. I stood shocked as I watched him jump from the eave onto the ground, landing on his feet.

I could barely bring myself to shut the window, consumed by the hypnotic roar of rain and how Jacob had disappeared into the darkness, unaffected by the conditions it took for him to come up to my room. Somehow, Jacob decided to find his way back to me. All to make it up to me, thinking he was responsible for Mom’s outburst.

I remembered my childhood summers and how my dad and I would spend time at the beach. Mom would usually stay behind on her towel, soaking up the sun. But I remember being obsessed with the water and I would run to the crashing waves. Once, I tried to go too far and further into the waves.

Dad pulled me aside. He said, “Niñita, don’t you see your feet sinking into the sand? The ocean pulls you in until you can’t get out.”

My head pounded, my world feeling as though it were spinning. I could feel La Push from my bedroom. My head felt like a seashell tossed by currents of saltwater, the seafoam wrapping around the edges of my mind and filling me with the sounds of the rez. If I listened closely, I could hear generations of Turners. I could hear Jacob calling me. If I could look into the freezing water, I could see his burning hand reaching for me.

Dad was right. I had sunk my feet too far into its sand, the soft foam wrapping around my legs and dragging me into the undercurrent.

There was no heeding to what the waters of La Push held for me. I was all too ready to surrender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Jacob saves the day and we begin to see more of his sweeter side, the part of him that is eager to help others. Amaya's finding it hard to resist causing confrontation back at home, knowing that her freedom is worth fighting for. Something is beginning to form between her and Jacob... 
> 
> As always, I'd love to know what you think of the story. Comment, leave a kudos, or bookmark to see what happens next! See you next chapter!


	5. Calm After the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya emails some of her friends back home. Afterward, Amaya needs to address the tension between her and her mother. Jacob comes to visit and Amaya finds herself faced with another obstacle: Bella.

 

 

 

From: [amayahernandez@gmail.com]

Subject: [Update]

To: [All]

Hey, guys. I'm sorry it's been a while since I've called or e-mailed—almost a month now, I know. I suck. I'll answer some of your questions.

I know you guys were wondering about Seattle. I barely saw it, although the airport was nice. It was a four-hour drive which, to be honest, I have no idea how my mom held it together that long. You know how she freaks out with cars.

The reservation is amazing. It's actually called La Push, and there are these tall cliffs with evergreens at their tops. There's an immense forest that leads up to the reservation that I can't say is literally in my backyard, but it's pretty close by. I used to go on jogs on a nature trail, but there are these animal sightings that keep popping up in the news. I kind of stopped jogging altogether because of that, but it's fine. The weather is hardly ever dry enough to go on a run without getting mud all over you, but the air is so fresh. You really do feel a difference in how clean the air is.

Also, to get back to you on what everyone's saying back home: of course, leave it to them to have the most stereotypical view of Native Americans. For a city of liberals, I would have thought even the idiots from our high school would get that politically correct. We're not longhaired shamans who smoke pipes and chant all day. We're just regular people - although, some of us are starting to act a little unusual, but that's mainly my mom and grandma.

According to them, I'm not allowed to see guys anymore. Specifically, the guys on the reservation. Grandma and Mom had a huge fight and Mom is completely changing her rules around because my friends are 'dangerous'.

I'm not gonna play stupid. I can see why. A friend of my friends flew off the handle at me for asking where they worked and almost punched me in the face. If it weren't for this guy named Jacob, I probably would have gone home with a serious black eye. He got me away from the bonfire just before Paul could hurt me and I owe it to him that I got home safe.

Ever since Jacob and I met, everything's just been a roller coaster with him. At first, he's trying to embarrass me in front of his friends and then he's protecting me from getting my shit kicked by Paul. Then all of a sudden we're cracking jokes and teasing one another... and the next thing I know I'm in the passenger seat of his car ready to kiss him. It feels like our relationship has kicked into overdrive, from hating each other to liking one another in just a few days.

My mom found us parked right outside our house and she freaked out on us both. If I had known she would have reacted like that, I would have never come home. It was embarrassing to see her scream at Jacob for trying to kiss me. He had to watch her grab me like I was a little kid, and (get this) _punch_ me in the face. My own mother had to be pulled away from me by a guy I've only known for barely a month. God, I cried. It only happened yesterday and I swear, if I wasn't a minor I'd be out of this house. I hate her what she did.

Jacob insisted on making sure I was okay after. He came up to my room, literally climbing up the roof with insane strength and kissed me on the cheek, right where my mom had hurt me. He said he'd be coming back every night to check on me. As long as we're quiet and I keep the door locked, I don't think I'd get caught. But I'll have to be extremely careful.

You guys know I haven't had a boyfriend since I was a freshman. When Dad passed, I couldn't think of being with a guy. Now I'm feeling things with him I haven't in a long time. My face turns hot when I think of him, my stomach flips and my heart starts to beat hard and fast. He's tall, strong and has a sweet side. He makes this smile every time he laughs at my jokes that makes me want to scream. His hands smell like gasoline from working on cars and his skin is strangely warm all of the time. I'm in serious like with him.

But I can't deny I'm seeing what my mom sees. As much as I hate her right now, what if she's right? After seeing what his friends are like, what if Jacob could be dangerous?

I know he'd never want to see me hurt but the way he shook in anger after seeing what my mom did to my face... It was like seeing a part of him unhinged. And that's not the worst part.

I know I'm starting to sound like my paranoid grandma, but I think Jacob and his friends are hiding something. One of the guys in their group is named Sam and they do everything he says. I don't want to say they're in a 'gang'. That'd be a little too irrational. But something's up and I don't know what it is, especially because Mom and Grandma refuse to give me any specifics as to why Jacob and his friends are dangerous.

Even if I can tell he's not a bad person, and even though he's gotten me out of some hot messes, I have no idea if he could be as bad as my mother says. I can only just hope she's wrong and that my gut feeling about him is right.

On a minor note, there's also the fact that he is not over his ex. Yeah, one of the things that he and his friends made clear to me is that he's still recovering from a break-up with this girl named Bella.

I know what everyone's going to say. Bitch, there are way too many red flags there to count. Get out while you still can.

But if I'm honest with you, I'm finding it hard to even care. I'm almost ready to get involved with this potentially dangerous guy because he makes me feel something I haven't in a long time. Whether I pursue him or keep things as they are, I might be setting myself up for heartbreak.

To sum up, my quality of life has been in a downward spiral since I got on the plane to Washington. Bye.

 

I bit my nail as I stared at the computer screen, cringing after my eyes glanced over the contents of my email. I definitely sounded like a dramatic, rebellious teenager with no sense of responsibility. I just had to come to terms with finally being one after all these years. I shut my laptop.

I sighed as I shuffled to my bed and rolled onto it, my stomach protesting for me to go and eat. I grabbed a pillow and curled up next to it, trying to ignore the fact that I was hungry.

I refused to leave my room to be anywhere remotely close to my mother. My face had faint bruises on both cheeks and my head hurt from the slightest pressure. My face flushed in anger as I remembered her fist tight against my scalp, keeping her grip on me to deal another blow to my face. I'd never been hit by my mother up until that moment. My chest knotted at the realization that my mother was not only becoming obsessive, but was resorting to violence. All the time I had spent taking care of her as she grieved my father's death couldn't have prepared me to deal with this.

My mother posed as a new physical threat to me that Jacob was resolute in protecting me from. He was the thing my mom was trying to protect me from but in reality, I needed Jake to save me from her the other night. I thought of his bold entrance into my bedroom, how he sat next to me and brought his feverish hand to cautiously frame my face.

I had never met Bella, but I knew I owed our would-be kiss to her. Jacob would have never made my heart race or sought to protect me if he weren't looking for a replacement, a soothing effect on his broken heart. In his eyes, I may have just been the rebound he needed after a tough break.

I shut my eyes and was lulled to sleep in the warmth of my bed. Whether Jacob was using me or not, he stood in my mind as more than just a crush. He embodied La Push and stood as a direct entryway into its haunting, foggy world that I longed to be reunited with. Jake offered a way back to the reservation that I needed. He was not only my shelter from danger, but a messenger: La Push was calling.

* * *

Gentle knocking came from the other side of my door, just above the sound of rain beating steadily on the rooftop. I sat up in bed, my eyes opening to near darkness. Mom had to be at the other side of the door, most likely ready to address her outburst from the previous night. I rose from the bed and hesitantly decided to unlock the door.

“Dinner?” she offered, sheepishly smiling and holding a plate of pizza. I wordlessly turned from the door and switched my lamp on. The warm light from my bedside lamp filled the room, a wake-up call for my sleep-filled eyes. Mom sat on my bed, putting the plate beside me on my quilt. I noticed her laugh lines sagging against her frown, her dark circles bruised with gray as she stared wordlessly at my plate.

“I’m sorry,” she said, "All of your life, I promised myself I would never hit you. I'm sorry."

“I wonder what changed that," I scoffed.

“I’m sorry,” Mom repeated and threw up her hands. “But I’m going to keep it simple with you. I don’t feel comfortable with you hanging out with those boys anymore.”

"You saying 'sorry' doesn't change what you did to me and it still doesn't make what you're saying make any sense to me. Why could I hang out with boys back home and not here?" I asked.

“Because Grandma worries about you," she said.

“Grandma worried about you and you still ended up having me,” I began, "You know I'd stay safe with Jacob like you taught me with my other boyfriend."

“That’s not the point. I couldn't give a shit if you got knocked up because I love you,” Mom's voice shook in her words, "But those boys are stronger, bigger, and angrier than you could ever know. It takes one second for them to snap and hurt you."

"Just like you did yesterday," I rebutted, "I haven't seen Jacob do that to me. If anything, he was the one pulling you away from me."

Tears welled up in my mother's eyes as she revealed, "Ma used to hit me." Her shoulders slumped about her as she began to sob, "Ma used to hit me every other day and I hated it. I never wanted to do that with you, Maya."

My jaw was slack open, watching her dissipate under the emotional weight of her revelation. I thought of Grandma's wizened mouth opening in surprise and sheer happiness to see us, the way tears welled up at her lids every time she looked at me at the circle. I couldn't imagine the small, elderly woman I had met at La Push putting a hand on my mother.

"Mom," I said, reaching over to touch her hand, "I'm sorry."

"It's been so hard for me to be back home," she sniffled, "When we fought over you leaving to the beach the other day, it all came rushing back to me. I remembered how she used to insult me and hit me and I... I was trying to get away from it. Sketching, designing... trying to work on something to run away from it."

"Malcolm told me she used to say things that hurt your feelings," I said, pulling her into a hug, "But he didn't tell me she used to hit you."

She held onto me, her head resting against my shoulder as I could feel her wet tears soaking into my pajama shirt. Even if I was mad at her for hurting me, I could still feel her pain as she crumpled into my arms. I wasn't going to reject her need for support when I could tell the past few days had been hard for her. She pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve.

"It's not an excuse," she breathed shakily, "I'll take back what I did yesterday but I can't let you see Jacob and his friends anymore."

Mom ran her hands through her hair, as tears rolled down her face in bubbles, making her lashes slick and pointed. Her eyes looked round and pleading as she took my hands in hers.

She said, “I want you to stop seeing them. No sneaking out. I want you to come up to me and ask me respectfully to go out with your friends. The answer will be ‘no’ if it’s any one of those boys. And you’re grounded.”

“This is completely unfair,” I mustered, my hand tightening around hers. “There’s nothing wrong with them. At least not Jacob, Emory, or Quil. They’re good people.”

“Enough, Maya. End of conversation,” Mom asserted as she pulled her hand from mine, storming out and slamming the door behind her.

I groaned loudly, feeling the urge to fling the plate of cold pizza across the room. Instead, my eyes began to water as I felt a pit rise in my throat. Dropping my face into my hands, I fought tears as I mentally arranged my best course of action.

I could see there was potential in me getting hurt around the rez boys in more ways than one. Their towering stances, brawny chests and built arms and the way I saw Paul and Jacob shake with anger were dangerous combinations that could easily lead to me getting physically hurt. What even was it about the rez boys that made them almost otherworldly? Did they just hit the gym late at night and down protein shakes like no tomorrow? What brought them to anger to the point that it shook them to their cores?

There wasn’t a direct explanation for any of it. I knew I really only had cause to worry about staying away from Paul, who seemed the most violent. There was still some potential to see the same side in the other boys, but none that had been used against me.

Then there was the matter of their odd excuses and Paul's outburst at the bonfire, which led me to believe Quil lied about his 'night shifts'. Not to mention Sam's odd claim of authority over the boys that almost led me to believe they were a part of a gang.

I was taking a serious risk in giving the boys another chance. My relationship with them would have to change, starting by distancing myself from them. It was crucial to place some space between Jacob and I as well.

Whatever we were, I had to put a stop to it. Being more than friends wasn’t going to work with his baggage regarding his ex. I could see myself setting my heart up to be broken if I were to let our relationship continue its current course. I’d have to address the situation, not for Grandma or Mom. Just for Jacob and I.

* * *

Later into the evening, I kept a blanket over my shoulders to keep me warm as I settled into a novel. I had finished off the cold slice of pizza, eager to get my mind off of my mother and I's confrontation. Even though I'd just been grounded, nothing felt as if it had changed. Forks would remain as boring as it did when we first moved. My phone buzzed repeatedly on the surface on my desk. Jacob was calling me. If I could look forward to him visiting more often, things could only get more interesting. I just wondered if they would stay that way knowing I needed to keep our relationship on a 'friends-only' basis. I flipped my cellphone open.

“Hello?” 

“Maya? It’s Jake,” he greeted.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I was just checking up on you,” he answered.

“Mom and I just had another fight,” I explained.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I said, “I promise, it was a lot calmer this time around.”

“Do you want me to come see you?” he asked.

I bit my lip and said, “Sure.”

Jacob and I agreed to see each other in a few minutes, hanging up afterward. I opened up the casement window, seeing the harsh rain steadying down to a drizzle. The trees rustled against the wind, the breeze wafting in to cool my room. I positioned myself in front of my vanity, noticing the tender spots on my cheeks turning a faint blue. I brushed out my hair, spritzing some perfume onto my neck and wrists. Would it do either of us any good to look good for each other? I planned on letting him down tonight anyway - that is, if he was hoping for something between us to happen. I kept on my sweats and thermal shirt.

He climbed in through the window without breaking a sweat, still to my amazement. Jacob was considerably less soaked by the rain than he was the first night he came into my room, the weather relenting from its storm the other night. He looked at me up and down, watching my face carefully.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I greeted, feeling my jaws tense against one another as my heart raced. I got out, “How’s everything?”

“Fine,” he sighed, taking slow steps to my bed. His heavy work boots clunked along the floor and I worried Mom could hear him from downstairs. “The guys are worried about you.”

“Really?” I asked, sitting on my bed.

“Quil feels really bad about asking you to sneak out on your mom like that. We didn’t know it was that serious,” he said, sitting down next to me. He took my face in his hands again, smelling faintly of gasoline and bar soap. "You're bruising," he murmured as his thumb passed gently over the small welts on my face.

“It’s okay,” I shook my head. “It might look a little worse than it hurts.”

“I'm sorry, Maya." Jake's eyes spanned across my face deliberately, from my cheeks, to my eyes, and to my lips. "I wish I stopped her earlier."

"It's fine, Jake. It's her own fault that she lost it, not yours or Quil's. She apologized for what she did," I reassured him.

"I'm going to hold it to her not to do it again," he said solemnly.

"Thank you," I sighed. "Thanks for coming to check up on me."

"It's the least I could do," he said, his arm wrapping around me and rubbing the small of my back. His warmth felt so comforting. Jake's presence alone made me feel better, but something about having him close, all to myself, in the aftermath of something that ruined my trust in my mother, was needed.

My heart twinged. We couldn't keep doing this.

“We need to talk,” I let out.

Jacob’s shoulders tensed, bringing his hands away from me.

“What do you mean?” he questioned.

“Jacob, whatever we’re doing, I don’t know think we're ready for it,” I explained, "You kissed me the other night. On my cheek, but before that, it was about to turn into something serious."

He didn’t say anything to that, his face turned away from me and towards the ground. His hand tightened on the quilt.

“I don’t care about trouble with my mom. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, and I can see how it’s ready to happen. I know Bella hurt you pretty badly.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay,” he asserted.

“Fair enough. I just think… I thought…” I searched for words, my stomach dropping in disappointment.

“Listen, I know we had like, a ‘moment’ back there. But that doesn’t mean we can just bring up one another’s exes. I’m not gonna bring up your ex - don’t bring up mine,” he said.

“What do you mean, ‘my ex’?” I asked.

“The guy,” he explained, “The guy you mentioned.”

 _Has anyone broken up with you before?_  
_No. But they left for a very long time._

“The guy that ‘left’... I meant my dad died. That’s the only reason why I’m here,” I admitted. I sighed, my breath shaking as it left my chest. Usually, whenever I talked about my dad, I could feel tears forming. This time, no tears came. My heartbeat had risen considerably after mentioning him, my palms sweaty.

Jacob slowly moved his gaze from my eyes to his hands. He said, “I had no idea.”

“I don’t know what came over me to say it at the garage like that. I just don’t know what to tell people.”

“What happened? What do you mean it’s why you’re here?”

“My mom and dad were driving one night from a friend’s house in New Jersey, two years ago. My dad was driving. Two kids were racing one another on the freeway. One guy was weaving through lanes and hit the driver’s side,” I said as I stared at my hands. “Being in the city was hard with no family. Well, for my mom, at least. She had no family in New York. So we left.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Jacob was quiet for a few moments and put a hand through his hair. He rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I lost my mom in a car accident, too,” he said, “I was a lot younger when it happened. But I get what it’s like, to not have anyone there where they should be.”

“Thank you.” I looked up at him to see his hooded eyes spanning across my face in concern. His long torso made him taller than me even as we sat. Wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs, I felt my chest loosen as my breaths began to deepen in natural ones again. I hated telling people. I hated being reminded of it. Yet somehow, I didn’t feel any immediate regret at letting Jacob know.

He understood. On a genuine level, someone understood as best as they could. And like the heat radiating from his body, even from the distance, we had kept from one another, I could feel it. I wasn’t alone anymore.

“I feel like I could say anything with you,” he blurted, “I know that’s weird, and I know you think I'm not ready for anything serious but I can’t help wanting to be here.”

My chest filled with the same warmth I could feel coming off of him. Looking into his pleading brown eyes, usually appearing black, I saw bits of honey-gold in them.

I sighed, “I don’t know.”

“You were right. About Bella,” he admitted, “It's not that I can't talk about her. It's just that I’m not ready. I’m not ready to say what I feel about you and I’m not ready to do anything about it.”

“I get it,” I said as my chest lightened. At least he did feel something, even if he wasn't ready for us to act on it.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he explained, “But I still want you around. Is that selfish?”

“I don't think so, not when I want you around, too. Maybe we don’t have to be like, a couple,” I cringed a bit on the inside as I said it, “Just friends.”

“Yeah. Friends.”

The word felt unnatural when brought to the reality of our situation. As we looked at one another, my eyes fell from his gaze down to his nose, his soft lips, the smooth copper skin on his neck that looked kissable, his collarbones barely visible from the collar of his shirt. Something about the space between us felt like it was begging to be closed. I wondered if within all the feelings he couldn’t share with me yet, that was one of them. The feeling of wanting to be skin-on-skin with one another.

He slowly got up, facing the window he climbed in from. Then, he turned back to me as I kept my place on the bed.

“Can you come back?” I asked suddenly, “Tomorrow?”

Through his tired face, I could see his eyes brighten and round with curiosity at my question.

“I just mean… there’s a lot of things I’ve been meaning to ask my grandma about the reservation. Things I’d rather ask you. And it’d make being grounded a lot easier.”

He nodded, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” I waved.

Jacob crept off into the night. I shut the window behind him and laid back up in bed.

Jacob had left something within me that hadn’t been felt in a long time. There was a spark between us, like when a match meets its board and a flame forms.

It would be crucial for both of us not to let it get out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Amaya have a talk about keeping their fast-growing flame on the back burner. But that'll be easier said than done, it seems. Tell me what you think! See you next chapter!


	6. It Takes Blood to Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaya's grounded, but Jacob and her find ways to get comfortable with a little trouble along the way.

The tension between my mother and I began to dissolve as Mom poured herself into giving the house a complete home makeover. It was something for her to focus on that wasn’t my choice of friends, which only put me slightly at ease. I allowed her to take measurements of my room’s floor and ceilings, watching her scrutinize her notebook as she considered how well her sketches compared. Mom suggested I help pick out the new bedding and furniture additions to my room, even letting me add in an entertainment area. The plans for my bedroom were more extravagant than I had ever enjoyed back in New York, but I supposed the new T.V. was part of her penance.

I would try and avoid her by retreating to my room and making myself busy by studying Quileute words, reading books or writing e-mails to my friends. Mom would instead try and draw me out of my room or find excuses to talk to me about the designs she had. Seeing as how she was keeping me from making the most of the reservation, all I wanted was to be away from her. It wasn’t like she didn’t have company already.

Malcolm would come over in the afternoon after he had finished up with work. As Mom continued to order more and more furniture, they’d both find themselves busy assembling the new pieces to my room. They’d take turns paying for takeout and I’d join them for dinner, participating in some light conversation. He’d talk about the new surfing lessons he’d been giving at La Push while Mom raved about more additions she wanted to add to the house. Once, Mom answered a phone call and became involved elsewhere as Malcolm and I sat alone at the kitchen table.

“I heard you and your ma had a fight,” he mentioned, chewing on a bite of his eggroll.

I looked up at him, his almond eyes warily gauging my face for a reaction. He wore a low-ponytail, though a few ink-black strands had fallen on the sides of his face. Malcolm swallowed and spoke again, seeing there was no reaction for me to give.

“When I was a little younger than you, I had just moved down from Tacoma. I didn’t have any friends on the rez but then I found all kinds of adventures here. I started surfing,” he added, “You should be able to have fun like your mom and I did.”

I shrugged. “I mean, I’ve been trying.”

“She’s just looking out for you,” Malcolm said, “The rez boys have a bit of a reputation.”

“I heard,” I said.

“Look, Maya,” Malcolm began, “It’s okay to find your own way around the reservation. I think it’s good you’re making friends. But every new place comes with its problems. If you find them, you can come to me.”

I nodded, gazing into his eyes as his crow’s feet crinkled into a worried expression. As he offered his support, I realized Malcolm was taking on a new role in our lives that transcended being a family friend, one that I wasn't entirely happy with.

As soon as I decided to retreat to my bedroom, they would creep off into the basement where my mom set up an entertainment room. At times, I suspected he would sleep over and leave before I could notice. If I was honest, I felt my stomach turn at the idea of my mom having a boyfriend spending the night. I didn’t know if I was okay with him replacing a part of my life that my father used to fill: a role of understanding, care and compassion for both my mother and I. I wasn’t ready to see a part of my life being emptied and replaced so soon, even if it had been two years since my father’s death. But I knew I was somewhat grateful he proved to be an excellent distraction to Mom.

Jacob made it a point to visit me every night after our agreement to remain friends. He would come at odd hours, either very early into the night or early into the next morning, and only stay for a few hours at a time. He told me he would have to come at random hours because his dad slept at different times each night. I didn’t question his excuse. I was almost afraid to know if there was a dangerous truth behind it like my mother warned me of. Instead, I would wait eagerly for his call, being sure to lock my door once Mom and Malcolm retreated to the basement.

The rain beat heavily on the rooftop one night, glazing the casement window overlooking my grand view of suburban life. It was close to dark, the street lights awakening to cast their yellow glow on the wet tar that few cars made their path of. I brushed my hair in front of my vanity mirror, still becoming accustomed to the final changes that had been made to my room.

A smaller, white armoire had been repurposed into a new entertainment center. It housed a T.V. and my video game consoles, as well as several DVDs. It sat positioned in front of my bed so I could comfortably watch movies or play games. Mom and Malcolm had installed a small chandelier with diamond pendants hanging from it. It twinkled as it illuminated my room from the center of my ceiling. A white bookcase sat next to my desk, a large space for my few novels. Mom and I decided it would do well to hold my picture frames of my family back in New York, including older photos of my father and I. A shaggy, pink carpet rested on the creaky, wooden floors, matching the blush color of my new bedding and throw pillows.

My dream-room had finally come alive, fit for a princess. I was grateful for it but was disappointed when I remembered it was my mom’s way of making up for the terrible rage she flew into. At least we were both recovering from the event, although separately, with our own choice of companions.

I heard a sharp knocking from the window’s glass. Jacob was crouched on the eave, leaning on the windowsill as he waited to be let in. I opened the casement window and he climbed in, his hair damp with moisture.

“Whoa,” Jake said, surveying the room, “Your mom works fast.”

“I know,” I said as I rolled my eyes, shutting the window behind him. “It’s the only thing that keeps her busy. The house is all she ever thinks about.”

He smirked at me. “I’m all you ever think about.”

“I could say the same for you,” I scoffed and plopped down on my bed. “You’re the one who insists on coming back.”

“You’re the one who lets me in,” he said.

Jake made his way to my desk, eyeing a shabby notebook I had picked up from the dollar store. He absently flipped through its pages which held the Quileute vocabulary I was still trying to learn.

“How’s things?” he asked.

“Fine,” I sighed. “Mom and Malcolm are in the basement, up to things I don’t wanna know about.”

He snorted, “Gross.”

“Nothing’s really happened. You know I’d rather hear about the rez, ” I said.

“Seth went cliff-diving today. His first time,” Jacob smiled at me.

“I bet he only jumped if you did,” I teased. Jake told me that Seth hung on his every word. I thought it was cute Seth found a role model in him.

“I mean, I did go in before him.” Jacob puffed out his chest, raising his eyebrow proudly.

“You guys are insane,” I said incredulously.

“Quil insisted on it,” Jake said with a chuckle. “There were girls looking up at us from the beach.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, shaking my head in mock-disapproval. “I’m sure you wanted make just as good of an impression.”

Jacob’s cheeks flushed red. “I’d invite you next time but you’re still grounded for being ‘boy-crazy’.”

“I’d have to be crazy, period, to go cliff-diving with you,” I said.

“Not to change the subject, but does your Grandma make you write these down or something?” he asked, raising the notebook and facing its pages at me.

My face warmed. “No. That’s just me, uh, trying to learn.”

Jacob laughed and pointed to a crude drawing of a raven I had scribbled next to its word in Quileute, _báyaķ._ “What even is that?”

“Shut up,” I smiled and got up from my bed to snatch the notebook from him, “I said I was trying, okay?”

“I’ll test you,” he said as his full lips twisting into a smirk.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I said. He reached for the notebook again from me before I swiftly pulled it away from his grasp.

“Let me see,” Jacob protested, his pearly whites showing through his cheeky grin.

“Just so you can make fun of my drawings?” I laughed. He reached for the notebook again before I turned my back to him. His arm wrapped around my waist and the other enclosed me into a crushing hug.

“Jacob, I can’t breathe,” I managed. I struggled against him, laughing as he easily wrestled the notebook from under me. I turned to face him in our playful embrace, teasingly swatting at his chest as he eyed my poor attempts at learning Quileute.

He clucked his tongue as his fingers traced the small of my back, “I guess I’ll have to help you learn.”

My heart fluttered as I felt Jacob’s fingers trace the skin that had made an appearance from under my riding shirt. I gently tugged the hem back down, his hand moving away from my back and into my own hand.

“You feel that?” he asked. “ _Tuh-hah-lee._ I’m warm.”

“I know,” I said, pulling my hand away from him. “How do you say, ‘I’m a tease’?”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t learned that one yet,” Jacob said, walking over to my bed to sit on it. “As if I pay attention to whatever they teach us at the rez school, anyway.”

“Right,” I said, pulling a remote from the entertainment center. I flicked on the T.V., switching to the output that would connect it to my gaming console. “I wouldn’t mind if you brought your homework here, you know. Maybe you should do that instead of making fun of me.”

“I’m gonna take a gap year just so I can make fun of you the whole time,” Jacob said, poking at my side. I winced and laughed; Jacob already knew I was ticklish there, having learned that from his previous visits.

“Let me play,” I said in good fun, shoving his hand away.

He watched me fumble with the controls as I began a new round of a racing game. My red car soared through a Vegas-styled race track before another car jutted me off the road and into a fountain. I looked over at Jake, noticing he had turned unusually quiet. I saw him thumbing the stressed paper, crumpled slightly from our mock-altercation. His eyes read the words but his mind was elsewhere.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He sighed. “Something happened today.”

We had grown considerably close since our agreement to stay friends. It was common for us to vent about things that had hurt or angered us, taking care to hear each other out completely.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Bella keeps sending me these stupid notes,” he muttered and added, “She said she wanted us to be friends again.”

“Are you okay?” I asked cautiously.

“I’m mad,” he burst. “How can she go back to him after how he broke her like that? She was the worst I had ever seen her. She was like a dead person,” he explained, his voice cracking towards the end. I could hear the pit in his throat as he spoke. “I was there for her. Me. I’m the one who kept her safe.”

Jacob’s ability to talk about Bella had improved over the course of a week. He was careful about avoiding certain details, which I didn’t have the courage to ask him about. But he had relayed how they were childhood friends, how he had fallen in love before she went back to her ex, and how that had hurt him. Jacob wanted nothing to do with her, and now it seemed that Bella wanted the opposite.

I watched his body tense, careful to watch out for any shivering that took over his body in anger. Seeing it was safe, I rested a hand on his shoulder and let it sweep his back gently to comfort him.

“Are you scared?” Jacob asked, his dark eyes scanning my face.

I didn’t know what he meant by the question. I suspected he could tell I was cautious of him having a violent outburst.

“I’m not.” I shook my head and led the conversation elsewhere, “You were a good friend to her, Jake. You helped her when she needed you.”

“But where was he when she needed him?” he questioned angrily.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. Jacob hated her boyfriend—I remembered Edward was the guy’s name.

He sighed, “I’m never gonna be good enough for her. I’m always going to have to prove that I am when this other guy is way worse for her.”

“Sometimes people want what’s not good for them." I shrugged.

“I know, and that’s exactly her problem. How am I supposed to make her see that?” Jake asked, his face screwed up into frustration.

Jacob found it within himself to protect Bella from Edward, even after her betrayal. He was conflicted between his need to protect her, and his reluctance to be friends with her again after she had broken his heart.

“You can’t,” I said, my hand resting on my lap again and away from his warm body. “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

Even as an onlooker I knew it was Bella’s decision to be with Edward, no matter how terrible he might be. It wasn’t up to Jacob to change that.

Jake’s chin crumpled slightly, and I thought I could see tears forming at his lids. He abruptly got up from the bed, rubbing at his face as he exhaled.

I desperately grasped for something to help, to reassure Jacob. Then I realized that his feeling of protectiveness over her matched something of my own.

“Wait,” I began, taking a deep breath.

He watched me with strained eyes as I prepared myself.

“I know losing my dad made me hate risks. I stopped taking them, I wanted people I love to stop taking them,” I swallowed, “With your mom… when your mom passed away - is that what happened to you, too?”

“I don’t know,” Jacob said as his brows furrowed. “Maybe. I don’t wanna talk about her. Maybe that did happen to me, I don’t know.”

“Jake,” I called to him, feeling my heart sink, “I’m sorry. It’s okay to want to help people. But you can’t stop them from making their own choices.” He stared at the ground, unwilling to look up at me.

“You’re right, you know,” Jacob said, trying to hold his voice strong. “About not being able to help her. Everyone says I’m obsessed, that I have to let it go. And I know I do. I think the worst part of it all is how selfish it is for me to want to help her. All I want is my friend back. I want things to just… to go back to normal. But I can’t want that, knowing ‘normal’ doesn’t make her happy. I don’t make her happy.”

My heart twinged in pain. Jake had recalled fond memories of him and Bella playing together as children. I understood that it was hard for him to lose her like this.

“It’s okay to want that. But some things have to stay in the past,” I said, rising from my seat on the bed. “You’re not a bad person, Jake.”

“You wouldn’t know,” he scoffed, turning to me with pain-filled eyes and a scowl.

“I know what I’ve seen in you,” I corrected, “You just have to understand that Bella’s found her way and now you have to find yours.”

Jacob’s eyes rounded from their grim figure, taking in my words. His jaw tensed, his fist unclenching and clenching again gently at his side. His gaze fell from my eyes to the floor. He opened the casement window and the gentle roar of rain and wind filled the room.

“I should leave,” Jake said. “I feel insane. My mom, Bella, Edward… God, I can’t think straight.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I said, “I’m trying to help, I just don’t know—”

“Don’t help,” he cut me off, “Just don’t say anything.”

He turned to me. Jake’s teeth were gritted against one another and his eyebrows were knitted together. His eyes betrayed his frustrated disposition, which were wan and pleading like a child’s.

Jake opened the window and climbed onto the eave without a goodbye. He disappeared into the darkness of the rainy night.

I shut the casement behind him. I was left conflicted at his sudden urge to leave, surprised from our shift from banter to arguing over his bleak opinion of himself. It pained me to see him unable to come to terms with his own hurt. I saw Jacob as feeling as helpless as I was when I lost my dad, as he must have been when he lost his mom. I could see him holding onto Bella, convinced he could save her but feeling powerless against her choice.

Did she see his pain? Did she know his suffering and hoped to make amends for it? I wondered how she thought a friendship would fix things, knowing his fondness for her.

My stomach dropped in fear as I realized that wasn’t the issue. It mattered more if Jacob agreed.  
  


* * *

 

Hours later, the phone vibrated against my sheets as I struggled to read the contact’s name against the screen’s harsh light. Jacob.

For hours, I considered calling him. I wanted to make things better but I remembered how he pushed me away with his words.

_Don’t help. Just don’t say anything._

I shouldn’t have pushed him on talking about his mom or Bella. I miscalculated how much he trusted me once he shut me out. Then I remembered all my mother’s warnings about him and realized, I couldn’t trust Jacob either.

Amidst his odd explanations, I couldn’t help but wonder. What kept Jake up late at night? I wondered if it were possible for him to have a retail job off the rez; the nearest stores were all the way in Port Angeles, and I supposed people could make an hour commute if they needed the money. But Paul’s outburst seemed to disprove that. And Jacob had turned to use his dad as an excuse before, too. There were too many stories, too many possibilities. There wasn’t ever one solid answer.

What was it then, that even after all of our talks, that kept him from telling me the truth?

I groaned and picked up my phone.

“Yes?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“Can I come up?” he asked.

I sighed. “I’ll be fine on my own tonight.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then what is it?” I asked.

“I wanna talk,” he said, “About what we said.”

I rolled my eyes and hesitated. “Fine. Come up.”

I turned on my lamp, staring at the clock on my phone’s home screen. It was three in the morning and I was trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes. Even if I was frustrated with his lies, Jacob worried me with how he left so abruptly. He never did this throughout all of his visits, even as he would vent about little things like his dad, the boys, or school. Where did he disappear to and why?

I opened the casement. Jacob climbed up to my room, his hair and body entirely wet with rainwater as he slipped in through the window. I wordlessly brought him a towel from my closet, sliding back into bed after I handed it to him. Without thinking, he peeled away his soaked v-neck from his damp skin, revealing a chiseled torso and herculean arms. My eyes stopped at a tattoo on his lower shoulder, a circle filled with Quileute decorative. He noticed me staring from my seat on the bed.

“Sorry,” he murmured, abruptly turning away from me and wiping his body with the towel. “I brought some extra clothes.” He gestured to a weathered drawstring bag on the floor.

I pulled the covers back over me, retreating back into their warmth and using them to shield my vision from Jacob. I heard the wet clothes fall to the floor. After I heard the rustling of fabric falling over his body, I pushed the blankets back again to see him fully clothed in sweats and a Harley Davidson t-shirt. His feet were bare, his worn sneakers tossed aside by my window.

“Why do you wanna talk?” I asked, sitting up.

He looked at me, and then bent down to pick up his wet clothes, tucking them away into the drawstring bag.

“‘Cause I left like an asshole,” he said curtly. His eyes wandered to the floor, shamefully avoiding my gaze.

I nodded. “And where’d you go?”

“I was at the gym,” he said. “Quil dropped me off while the rain was heavy and I got wet.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

Jacob ignored me, sitting on the foot of my bed. He turned back to me and I stared into his pleading jet-black eyes that observed my posture and face steadily.

“You’re mad at me,” Jake said.

“I mean, it is three in the morning,” I shrugged, crossing my arms.

“You miss sleep for me all the time,” he said, “Like I do for you.”

“What if I’d prefer to sleep?” I asked.

“I’d leave. But not without hearing why you’re really mad. Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded.

I sighed. I couldn’t be mad at Jacob. It wasn’t his fault for feeling hurt— he was overwhelmed. I was selfishly making his pain about me.

I crawled out from the covers and sat next to him, giving him a chiding shove to his shoulder. “I don’t wanna see you like that again. I was really worried about you.”

“It’s really hard for me to talk about my mom,” Jake admitted. “I just tell everyone I can’t remember her or what it was like so I don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry for being mad,” I began, “It’s not about you getting upset. I just…”

Jacob and the boys’ excuses made their rounds in my mind again, reminding me why I couldn’t trust them. I needed the truth, but Mom’s warning made the blood pool to my feet as I stared into Jacob’s eyes.

_Those boys are stronger, bigger, and angrier than you could ever know. It takes one second for them to snap and hurt you._

“Amaya?” he asked, “What’s wrong?”

I blurted, “I’m scared.”

“Why?” Jake’s eyebrows went up into worry.

“Jake… Can you tell me the truth?” I asked tentatively.

His eyes were round with expectancy and then his face darkened in realization, looking at his lap.

I said, “I’m looking at that tattoo on your arm and you have me thinking you’re in a gang or something. Please don’t tell me you’re doing anything stupid.”

He swallowed. “I can’t say, Maya.”

“I get it if it’s your mom or Bella. I get it if you’re hurt and don't want to talk about those things, but this,” I said tapping a finger on his arm, right on the ink of his tattoo, “Don’t tell me what everyone else is saying.”

He nodded thoughtfully, a grim expression on his face. “That I’m dangerous?”

My palms were sweaty as I felt pins and needles up my spine. I half-expected him to start shaking in anger, or a snarl to curl at his face.

“If I told you the truth,” Jacob said, “Would you take back what you said? About me being a good person?”

I shook my head.

“Then why are you scared of me? Like I’ll hurt you?” he asked softly. I almost winced as his hand reached for my cheek carefully. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“Because I want the truth,” I said, feeling the warmth of his gentle palm on my face. “I don’t know why you’re keeping it from me and that scares me. I wanna trust you Jacob, but you need to trust me, too.”

Jacob sighed. “The truth is I am dangerous. I can’t tell you how, not yet,” he said.

“Okay,” I breathed, feeling my hands tremble. “But you’ll tell me, right? Soon?”

He nodded, “I’m going to do what I can. I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Thank you,” I said. I sighed, seeing his shoulders loosen at his sides. His face sunk into his exhaustion, his dark circles like puffy crescents underneath his hooded eyes. I felt a pang of pity as I took his face into my hands.

“Can I hug you?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said and graciously wrapped his large arms around me in a tight embrace.

His cheek was pressed against mine as my hand swept along his shoulder blades, his warmth spreading across my body as we held onto one another. He leaned into me as I’d found myself enveloped by all of him; his feverish skin, his shaking breath on my shoulder, the weakening of all the tension in his muscles. We burrowed into each other’s arms, finding hearth and home in one another as if we’d been starved from knowing the touch of safety and promise, hungry to have it and too greedy to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into my hair.

“Don’t be,” I said.

We parted after several moments, meeting each other’s gaze again.

I murmured, my hand grazing his forearm and down to the top of his calloused hand, “Are you okay? Are you feeling better?”

He nodded, his eyelids closing gently and blinking lazily back open. His heavy hand rested on mine in response to my reassuring touch.

“You look exhausted,” I noticed.

“I’ve been up all night,” he sighed. “I kept thinking about what I said—about what you said.”

“You need sleep, Jake,” I said. “I don’t wanna keep you from it. My mom’s calmed down a lot.”

Jacob gave a shy smile. “I’m here for more than that.”

My cheeks warmed as the corners of his jaded eyes came together against the simper on his face, his eyes gazing fondly on me.

“Was it the racing game?” I teased.

“Hell, no,” he said as his lips curled into a laughing smile. I smiled in return, elated he wanted to see me for more than my safety - even if he was still heartbroken for Bella.

“You should sleep, though,” I said, my lips pinching together.

“I can go back home, I guess.” Jake shrugged, his face sinking at my words.

“I meant here,” I said. Normally, I wouldn’t have suggested it. But I didn’t want him to make the long drive home feeling as tired as he did. Jake’s eyebrows raised and his hand reached the nape of his neck, rubbing it gently. I explained, “You don’t have to. We can stay up but I can tell you’re tired.”

Jacob sucked in his teeth, his eyes drifting from my plush duvet and back to me. He nodded hesitantly as his lips curled into a sheepish smile.

“That’d make things a lot easier,” he said.

“Come on,” I nudged his shoulder. “There’s enough room for both of us.”

I shifted myself back under the covers. Leaning back onto my pillow, I turned to a basket for a throw pillow that would keep Jake comfortable for the rest of the night. But Jacob didn’t have much interest in using it. He pulled himself up to the top of the bed, his arm curled around my waist and settling his head onto my chest instead.

“Oh,” I said in surprise.

“Should I stop?” he asked, slowly looking up at me.

“You’re okay," I allowed him.

Jake’s warmth seeped through the quilt I was tucked into. I couldn’t help but run a hand through his damp, spiky ink-black hair as he looked up at me. He smiled his usual cheeky grin, amused by my gesture.

“No?” I asked, hesitant to continue running my hands through his hair.

“It felt nice, actually,” he admitted, his smile pulling up further on one side of his face than it did the other. Jake shifted himself upwards onto the bed to be eye-level with me.

My stomach fluttered as our faces were only a few inches from one another, his gaze steadily on me he pulled the covers over himself. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his firm torso.

“I like this more,” he murmured, “Do you?”

“I guess it feels nice,” I said coyly.

Jacob murmured, “I don’t wanna play pretend with you.”

My heart raced, caught off-guard by his sentiment. “Then what do you want?”

He smiled softly, pulling me into a tight hug as we remained tucked into my plush bed. Jake sighed as he rested his head against the top of my shoulder, rubbing my back as he held me in his warm embrace.

“I wanna stay like this,” he breathed onto my neck.

I sighed in relief. I enjoyed what Jacob and I had. It was hard to say it was a friendship - the chemistry was clearly there. There was no avoiding it, how we would find an excuse to get into play-fights or our hands meeting to touch. But there was more to us that was a friendship, a sense of need for one another, that I didn’t want to complicate with sex—and more importantly, baggage.

“Am I doing too much?” he asked.

“You’re fine,” I said with a smile, warming at his consideration. “But thank you for asking.”

I stroked his hair for a few moments. I could smell the scent of fresh earth and pine off of him, something I used to enjoy during my morning jogs through the forest.

“There’s wolves,” he sleepily murmured, “There’s so many.”

I giggled quietly. “Are you sleep-talking?”

“I just wanna stay,” Jake said, holding me tighter. “I don’t want to go back.”

Jacob melted away from his hard exterior as my protector. Even though that’s what he wanted to be for me, he let me know that I protected him, too. With me, he could be vulnerable without feeling weak. I was his armor as I held him against the night he so often had to stalk back to.

I knew he hated leaving after we loved one another in our little ways, in our unspoken words and our unborn kisses that would remain hidden in our boundary between friends and lovers.

I stroked his hair as he snored gently into my arms, letting him sleep in the few hours I could allow before dawn.

All was calm before Sam Uley came to the old Turner house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading Eclipse, I could see losing Bella brought out a lot of obsessive behaviors in Jacob that made him an unhealthy partner. I really wanted to dive deep this chapter and try to address some of the trauma that makes Jacob a protector, but also obsessed about Bella's well-being. His character has always been really interesting to me and I hope I can do him some justice throughout this story. See ya next chapter.


	7. Untold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real.

I woke up to Jacob’s long arm reaching for my phone from the night table. The incessant beeping from my alarm sounded off before he had finally managed to switch it off. My eyes groggily opened to the sound of his exhausted sigh and the sight of him propped up on his elbow.

He slowly pushed his long legs out of the bed.  Jacob had only slept four hours but he’d have to get going soon. It was better for him to leave early than risk getting caught.

My eyes refused to stay open and I curled up onto my side, enjoying the remaining warmth from Jake’s body seeped into the blankets.

“Look at you,” he murmured, and I felt his thumb tracing along my cheek.

“What about me?” I got out, my eyes opening up.

“I have to let you get more sleep,” he noticed, “You look terrible.”

We both chuckled, his smile reaching the dark moons under his eyes. I added, “You’re one to talk.”

Jake leaned over from his seat on the bed and planted a soft kiss on my cheek, butterflies filling my stomach as he pulled the covers back over my shoulders. He had crossed a physical boundary that he hadn’t since before our agreement to be friends.

“Maya,” he called to me.

“Yes, Jake?” I said, against the sound of my heart racing.

“We’re not really friends, right?” he asked.

There was still potential to get my heartbroken with Jake. The secrets he kept, his lingering love for Bella… how could he ask me what we were when he was the one I was waiting on?

“Why do you ask?” I said, my heart beating at the brink of confrontation.

“Well, after last night… how we slept together. We can be something more, right?”

“Are you asking me out?” I asked hesitantly.

Jake’s lips pinched together as his eyes drifted from my gaze to the sheets. “I just think we’re there. Like, why not?”

 _Why not?_ I could give him a thousand reasons ‘why not’. And he was going to sit here and act as if dating me was some passive decision to be made for the hell of it.

I sat up in bed and sighed. “Jake, no. We’re not doing this.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his almond eyes widening.

“I told you why we’re friends, Jake. That’s not gonna change anytime soon.”

He blinked at me, confusion playing in his eyes. He got up from the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I like you, Maya. Are you just gonna tell me you don’t feel the same way?” he asked, disbelief stringing his tone of voice.

“...That’s beside the point,” I began, “Feelings don’t change that I don’t have the truth and that I’d have to share you with another woman.”

Jake was silent for a moment, his breath getting heavier in his chest. His brows furrowed together and I could see the frustration building behind his visage. He held some concentration in holding his composure.

“Bella doesn’t have a say in this,” Jake said firmly, his face darkening with red. He crossed his arms, trying to hide the trembling in his hands. “You think I’m not ready for you but what if I am? What if I want you right now?”

“Why rush into things when she still has a say over you?” I asked.

“Stop bringing her up, Amaya!” he burst.

I pointed out, “If she wanted you, would you stay with me?”

Jacob pursed his lips and his black eyes stared grimly at the floor.

“My point exactly,” I began. “Did you think I’d just forget and hope that someday you’d tell me your secrets? That I’d forget you’re not over her?” I crossed my arms. “No, Jake. I don’t just date strangers with baggage and hope for the best. I expect it.”

“Alright, Amaya. You didn’t have to bring her into this. As if I was asking to be with you,” Jake scoffed. He stormed over to the window and snatched his drawstring bag from the floor.

“Well, at least now you know I don’t settle for less,” I cracked.

“Who are you to tell me I’m not good enough? You’re the one who needs my help,” he turned and jabbed a finger at me.

“As if you’re not using me to get over Bella,” I scoffed.

“I cannot believe—” he began to raise his voice, throwing his arms up over his head abruptly. “You think that’s all I’m here for?”

“Yeah, Jake. Get out,” I ordered, “You wanna be more than friends and you can’t commit.”

“Forget I said anything,” he muttered as he forcefully opened the window, “Bye, Maya.” He climbed out onto the eave, the morning breeze filling my room as quickly as he had left. The sound of birds singing entered my room, replacing the sudden silence in the aftermath of our argument.

I felt anger filling the pit of my chest, my resentment against Jacob brewing more and more as I thought of him. How could he ask me to be more when he couldn’t give me more? He knew I had feelings for him and somehow he hoped I could just throw myself at him without a second thought. I thought things would move slower and had hope he was getting over Bella. With the way things were, I couldn’t rush into things just then—there was no compromise to be made there.

I lifted myself out of bed, unlocking my bedroom door. My feet stomped down the stairs, hoping to get my mind off the fight with my morning routine. I just needed to brew some coffee, maybe write an email to my friends, or at least—

I stopped in the staircase as I saw Malcolm looking intently out of the living room window. He turned to me, his crow’s feet widening at the corners of his eyes in surprise.

“Maya, I… funny you’re awake so early,” he struggled to get out.

“You’re still here,” I noticed plainly. “What’s, uh, so interesting outside?”

“Oh, I just thought I saw one of those wolves again—I mean, deer. Something wild, I guess,” he said and gave a nervous laugh, a hand going to the collar of his white undershirt. I noticed his flannel thrown loosely over his shoulder as if he had been in the process of dressing.

“Spent the night again?” I asked, glancing at the window. I wondered if somehow Malcolm had seen Jake leaving.

“I guess you could say that.” Malcolm sucked his bottom lip in, looking across the floor and gave a hesitant shrug.

“It’s not like I haven’t noticed,” I said, descending down the rest of the stairs and shuffling to the kitchen.

“Maya,” he said, following me to the kitchen. “Your mother and I… I don’t know how to explain it. We’ve just grown closer together.”

I grabbed my coffee-maker, a silver percolator, from a dish rack. My shoulders rounded in exhaustion as I faced him.

“Just forget it, Malcolm. You can go.” I waved him off.

“... Good-bye, Maya,” Malcolm said weakly. He walked off, his steps growing farther away until I heard the sound of car-keys jingling in his hands. The front door creaked open and shut, our second nightly visitor finally gone.

I rubbed my eyes, tears forming at my lids until I forced them back. I walked over to the living room, pulling an old spiral notebook from a bookshelf. It was an old agenda I’d filled with to-do’s and errands, but I scrambled to a page that was empty. Finding a pen, I sat down at the kitchen table and sniffled back my weakening tears.

_Dear Dad…_

* * *

Days passed since Jacob and I’s fight. Although I missed our nightly meetings, I knew I had to continue being firm with Jacob. I refused to cry over our fight and I refused to regret turning him down. I deserved more than just a ‘why not’. If I learned anything about Jacob, he was persistent for the people he loved. If he loved me, he would persist through whatever he had to in order to bring me the truth. 

I poured myself into whatever errands my mom assigned. During the day, she’d lie up in bed after waking up in the afternoon. She found it hard to clean or cook for us, or even to shower. All the while, Malcolm kept calling, kept coming over, kept getting her out of bed and pushing her to be herself again. And all the while, Mom would get better until he left.

Their sleepovers had stopped since the morning I’d finally caught Malcolm in the midst of his exit. But one evening, when Mom had fallen asleep after dinner, I caught him just before he left for the night.

“Malcolm?” I called to him on the porch, “You can sleep over, if you want. Mom usually gets up in the morning when you do, I guess.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the sides of his eyes and his aging dimples deepening into his cheeks. The nightly drizzle of rain nestled into his long hair and he neared closer into the yellow glow of the porch lights.

“Really. There’s no need to be embarrassed,” I shrugged. “I’ve noticed that she’s changed since you stopped staying over.”

Malcolm’s smile weakened as he looked past me. “You’re just like Jenny, Maya. Always thinking of your mom.”

“I try,” I said, my arms crossed against the breeze.

“Thank you. For understanding,” he said with a wave. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

And so he was. Maybe it was hard for me to accept Malcolm. But it wasn’t really up to me to deny my mom someone who made her happy.

Since then, Jacob hadn’t come around, but Grandma had. She called my mom over to the rez urgently, something about talking with the elders. Over what, I didn’t know. But Mom refused to go without Malcolm.

They left me there, alone, the sound of rain against the rooftop, and a notebook I kept filling with letters to someone who no longer existed.

* * *

A few days went by where Mom and I spent evenings at the rez. I couldn’t explain Mom’s sudden shift in eagerness to be back alongside Grandma again.

“Your grandma has her way of talking to Jenny,” Malcolm sighed one afternoon while Mom was getting ready to go to the rez. He was helping me wash some dishes, drying them as I passed them to him.

“Mom told me Grandma used to hit her,” I mentioned, my throat tight. I didn’t know if I was allowed to mention any of this to Malcolm.

“I know,” Malcolm said with a frown. “But no one can help wanting to be with their mom after so many years, Maya. It’s best to let it be.”

He was right, in a way. I was less than enthused about seeing Grandma again—she was the main cause of my loss of freedom. But at least Mom could find something to look forward to during the day. As much as Mom wanted to be around Grandma, I couldn’t help but feel protective over Mom every time we stepped into the old Turner house. Didn't it scare her to be back in her old home where bad memories must have permanently resided?

One night, Grandma asked if I wanted to help them sew a new quilt. This was an old past time they used to share when Mom was younger, as almost all of the blankets and quilts in the house were handmade. I was surprised they invited me to do something with them after dinner since they usually used that time to themselves on the porch. I let my Grandma put a needle in my hand and teach me the basics as we sat around the kitchen table.

After an hour or so had passed of practicing stitches, I heard loud, abrupt knocks at the front door. I got up from my chair, shuffling to the door and unlocking it.

I opened the door to see Sam Uley looking down at me from his imposing height in the threshold, his eyes black and face glowering.

“Where’s Miranda?” he asked abruptly. Grandma came to the front door, her hands on her hips and lips pursed shut. Her jaw was clenched as she glared at him.

“I’m here, Sam,” she greeted brusquely.

“I’m not moving until I get some answers,” he ordered.

“You hear that, Jenny?” Grandma turned behind her to face my mom. Mom's eyebrows met in fear, unable to hide the same doe eyes she’d get when met with an open road and cars surrounding her.

“Give us a minute.” Mom took my grandmother by her elbow, walking her cautiously into the kitchen. I let Sam enter the house, shutting the door behind him. He looked at me up and down, almost deliberately.

As I walked away from Sam and towards the kitchen, just entering the hallway, I heard Grandma muttering to my mother harshly.

Grandma asserted amidst their hushed tones, “Keep Maya out of this.”

I stopped in the hallway, not knowing what to do next. I looked over at Sam, whose arms were crossed over his large chest. His eyes lowered to meet my gaze in suspicion, critically watching my next move. If this had to do with me, I was going to know what it was about without having to fight them for it. It was time to know what they were hiding from me.

I kept an even pace and pulled my cellphone and charger from my bag. There were a few steps I had to take next, ones that I hoped would work in my attempts to hear Sam and Grandma’s confrontation.

In the past, I learned I could eavesdrop on my older cousins by leaving a phone in the room with them. Just like I used to, I set my cell phone to automatically answer any calls it got. I set all the ringers and vibrations on silent and set its screen to ‘off’. This would make it unsuspectingly quiet and inconspicuous to the eye, almost as if it were dead, and the phone would still pick up everything being said in the room. All I would have to do is call it from the home phone and I would get a live feed of what was happening downstairs.

“Maya,” Grandma called to me, “Go upstairs. Your mother and I need to talk with Sam.”

I flipped my phone shut and obeyed.

“In Jenny’s room,” she clarified, “This conversation is for the adults.”

I rolled my eyes once my back was turned away from them. I was incredibly glad I was about to finally find out what was actually going on, what all those private talks on the porch were about, what I wasn’t allowed to know but finally would. This conversation was gonna include me, too.

Just in the upstairs sitting area was a cordless phone. I took it from its cradle and shut the door to my mother’s old bedroom. Sitting on the bed, I quickly dialed my cell phone number. With any luck, I would pick up on what they were saying. With only one dial tone, I was connected to the other end.

“You think I was gonna sit back and let you play out in her life?” Grandma asked incredulously.

“And so you go to the elders about all of this?” Sam raised his voice.

“We’ve noticed Jacob going in and out of her room every night,” Mom said, “Of course we were going to go to the elders.”

_Oh, fuck._

“You had a problem with me, you should have come to me first,” Sam said.

“We were giving things a chance to play out by the tribe,” Grandma explained, “But I guess if we have to, we can call up the police in Forks for Jacob breaking and entering.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam raged, “You’d call the cops? I could call the cops on you, Jenny, for slapping the shit out of your kid.”

“That’s her daughter,” Grandma defended.

“And you’re just gonna sit here, Jenny? You’re just gonna let her call the cops on a kid who was looking out for your own daughter?” Sam asked incredulously.

I couldn’t hear what Mom said. Her reply came out as a murmur.

“We know exactly what you boys are capable of. Flying into a rage, killing people,” Grandma said, “Emily is a good example of what happens when you let a shapeshifter too close.”

Did I hear that right? A shape-shifter?

“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth. You made a big, big mistake by letting this happen. You care that bad about keeping her away from us? You tell her what we are and what we do,” Sam barked at her.

“You wanna tell me how I get her to stay away without making myself sound like a crazy bitch?” Grandma asked.

“Yeah, that’s kind of your own fucking problem. I don’t care if she’ll never believe you,” Sam retorted, “My job is to keep what I do a secret. But you should know better than to smack your kid around like that. And I’ll let Jacob make sure she’s okay every night if that’s what she needs.”

“You order him to stay away! I know how the pack works. I know you have that kind of power,” Grandma said, “And if you don’t, I’ll have a long talk with Chief Swan. He’s got a daughter of his own and I’m sure he’d be plenty disappointed to hear Jacob climbing into a girl’s bed every night.”

I opened the bedroom door and bounded down the stairs, heat filling every part of my body in rage.

“Maya,” Mom covered her mouth in shock. Grandma and Sam stood agape at me as I yanked my cell phone from its charger, quickly packing everything away into my tote bag. I stood in the foyer, looking directly into the eyes of my grandmother.

“You really are a crazy fucking bitch,” I said to her. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the house. A light drizzle fell on my hot face as I walked quickly into the darkness of night. My shoes trudged in wet mud as I broke into a jog. I had to get away from my batshit mom and her batshit mom before I lost my mind.

“Hey! Hey kid,” Sam’s husky voice called out from behind me, “I’m not gonna chase you down all night.”

“Go away,” I said.

“Turn around and look at me!” he ordered.

I heard a rumbling, louder and louder as it neared. A motorcycle roared its way through the mud of La Push, stopping abruptly in front of the old Turner house. It collapsed to the ground as a towering figure made its way off of it. The broad shoulders, the over-washed black shirt tight against his wide chest and the long gait that carried him closer to us...

“Jake, get the hell out of here,” Sam demanded.

“I’m not leaving, Sam,” Jacob protested, his jaw clenched. His arm made its way around my shoulders, drawing him closer to me as his black eyes glared right into Sam’s. "You're not hurt, are you?" Jacob asked as he turned to me. His firm gaze clashed his worried brows, his warm hand gently holding my face by my chin. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my shaking hand reaching for the edge of his jaw. Amidst the chaos around us, I focused on the feeling of his cheek leaning into my touch, the slow movement of his eyelashes meeting the dark rings of his eyes. There it was: his rugged exterior melting away for just a second, showing me the person that was underneath—the person that needed me.

“Maya! Get away from him!” My grandma's shriek cut through the commotion, “Jenny, go get your daughter now!”

“Let go of her, Jacob,” Sam said through clenched teeth."Let's just get out of here."

“I think it’s time she knows what all this really is,” Jacob said, turning to him. "I'm not lying to her anymore, Sam."

Sam rubbed his temples as Mom and Grandma shouted for me to get back in the house. My heart was thrumming in my chest. Jacob had come back to me. Someway, somehow, he decided to give me the truth.

I watched Sam's breath exhale from his flared nostrils, opening and closing his fists to relax the building tension in his body. He rolled his shoulders, looking between my mother and grandmother, and Jacob and I.

“Fine,” Sam gave in. He turned to the figures on the porch, their figures illuminated by the porch lights against the dark of night. “Let’s let her decide if we’re dangerous. You wanna know what all of this is about, right, Maya? Jake is gonna show you.”  
  
“Jenny, do somet-” My grandma began to shriek before my mom cut her off.

“Enough, Ma,” Mom cut her off. She pulled away from my grandma, who kept telling her to come back to the house as she yanked her wrist away from her grip. Mom neared us and walked further away from the porch. Her face was weak with exhaustion.

“Let me hold onto her, Jake,” Mom said, “Just get it over with.”

“What do you mean?” I asked frantically as Jake allowed my mom to hold onto me. Jacob watched me carefully as my mother wrapped an arm around me, attempting to walk me further away from him.

“Do it quick, Jake,” Sam instructed, his head whipping once to each side vigilantly, “Before someone sees. Just meet us back at Emily’s.”

Jacob began to tremble, his breath turning heavy as his neck strained against his tensing muscles. His arms began to curl and his back hunched, his breath turning into a steady growl.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“Get back,” Mom instructed as Sam moved closer to us to herd us further away from Jacob.

“Is he okay? Jacob, are you okay?” I called out to him.

Sam and Mom fussed over me, moving me quickly and further away as I saw Jake’s shirt tear loose from his body. His arms and legs grew long in an explosive movement, his ribs expanding and reddish fur sprouting all over his body. His face contorted into a long, canine snout, fit with fierce teeth exposing themselves against a snarl. Tall ears grew from the folds against his head, and sharp round eyes looked familiarly human on a foreign body. The wolf and I looked at each other - no, Jake and I looked at each other.

When Jacob Black turned into a wolf, I remember my vision turning black and every sensation in my body turning weak, and succumbing into numbness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry for the hiatus. I've had a lot of work, but I knew I couldn't leave this story up without finally writing the moment that Jake tells Amaya his big secret. Tell me what you guys think!


	8. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some answers.

I opened my eyes to a tunnel of pure white. Murmurs of voices bounced around its walls of white fuzz until I could see it had an end.

In the clearing, I could see my father’s rosary swaying over the dashboard of my mother’s rental. Sam’s large hands sat firm on the wheel, bordered in snow-like static, and I felt my mother’s shoulders relax as she let out a sigh.

“She’s awake,” Mom called to him from our place in the backseat. The car surpassed rough terrain, jostling me from side to side as Mom tried to hold me steady in her arms. Still, her voice sounded far.

“Don’t let her move too much,” Sam instructed, “We’re almost there.”

The opening in the static closed again and I lost my senses in a storm of fog.

I came to once more, my vision again immersed in the blizzard of static. A car door closed and opened. Several voices fretted together.

“I can get her out just fine,” a man’s voice said, “Come on, Maya.”

Maya. My name was Amaya.

I was put in this cradle of immense warmth. It felt like soft skin, two arms holding me firmly against the misty breeze of La Push. I could smell pine and saltwater all around me. And when I looked up, it was Jake's face framed with the same white static.

Jacob Black. Yeah, I remember him. The guy I met at the circle, the one that Sam yelled at. The one who carried me down the shore of La Push, the one who came to my room smelling like fresh earth and rainwater every night. I remember his smile, white and pearly, the way the apples of his cheeks blushed against his sharp, hooded eyes. Jacob kept a firm gaze on where he was going, not on me. No smile on him this time, not the one I missed.

“Set her down in the guest room,” I heard a feminine voice say. Looking up, I could see that we entered the threshold of a house.

He set me down on a bed, taking care to push my hair away from my face before setting my head down on the pillow.

“Jake, go get her some water,” the feminine voice said. A heart-shaped face, framed with ink-black bangs and wide, low-set cheekbones loomed overhead. The static was nearly gone now - I could see her face fully. Her eyes were intensely brown and large, deep-set almond eyes. Large scars marred the left half of her face, causing one eye’s edge to sink lower than the other. She set a cold towel on my forehead, smoothing my hair away from my face.

“Thank you, Emily,” Mom said, looking over me with a forehead wrinkled from stress.

“What happened to her?” Emily asked.

Mom said, “Jake shifted in front of her.”

“Jake… Jake did what?” I asked.

They turned to me sharply, almost surprised I could even speak.

“Try and remember, honey,” Mom said, “We were at Grandma’s house, and Sam and Jacob came by.”

“I got some water,” Jake called. He reappeared, his head nearly reaching the top of the doorway. He wore no shirt, his toned chest fully exposed.

My heart raced at the sight of his face, remembering the transformation that took place earlier.

“Wolf,” I exclaimed, “There was Jacob and I... I saw a wolf.”

Jake’s face fell when he saw me. He took two long steps towards my place on the bed, and my grip instinctively tightened around my mother’s arm.

“Maya,” he called to me, his eyebrows shooting up worriedly, “I can explain-”

“Let’s let Amaya rest for now, Jake,” Emily said cautiously, raising a hand at Jacob. "Just set the water down on the table."

"I'm sorry," he said. Jacob watched me warily, his eyes searching my face. He put the glass gingerly down on a wooden vanity, Sam appearing behind him in the doorway. Sam waved for him to leave the room, and Jacob reluctantly obeyed. Jake's worried eyes gave one last look at me before Sam shut the door quietly behind them.

“Just look at me, and breathe,” Emily said.

“In and out, Maya,” Mom instructed.

I took a deep inhale and exhale, slowly.

“Jacob is a werewolf,” Emily said, “Now think about what you saw, but breathe this time.”

I remembered Jacob’s heavy breathing, his body trembling before he transformed. Inhale, exhale. There was a large wolf taking form in front of me, growing from Jake's human body and appearing before me as if by magic. 

“A werewolf,” I repeated, my heart pounding in my chest. Emily and Mom nodded, watching me carefully. I steadied my breathing, feeling Mom running her hand across my back in circles to try and soothe me. “How… how is that even possible?”

“So…” Emily began, “There’s a legend that Q’Wati, the transformer, came and turned wolves into people. That’s us, the Quileutes.”

“I remember that legend, but how could it be _true?_ ”

Emily bit her lip and began again, “Some boys in the tribe are born being able to turn into wolves. It’s been this way for generations.”

“But you cannot tell anyone,” Mom asserted, “Not even everyone in the tribe knows.”

“All this time,” I began and sighed in disbelief, regaining my breath as my heart race quickened, “All this time Jake was lying about something. The tattoo and being out late at night.”

“The rez boys—Quil and Embry, even Sam, they’re all wolves, too,” Emily explained, “They go out at night to protect the tribe.”

“Wolves,” I breathed the word. My heart was racing as I turned it over in my mind.

The boys’ night shifts, Jacob’s ability to climb onto the eave, the way his body trembled when he got upset… the symptoms, all strange puzzle pieces that didn’t quite click together yet formed an unusual diagnosis: Lycanthropy. Werewolf. Shapeshifter. I tried to rationalize it all as some weird joke, but no. I saw the transformation happen right in front of me.

“That’s why I wanted to keep you away, Amaya." Mom held my hand, her thumb passing over the top of my hand slowly. “They have bad tempers. They can shift at any moment and hurt someone.”

I looked over at Emily, the claw marks permanently engraved into her face. Her lips stiffened at Mom’s words, looking back at me and knowing my question without my having to say it.

“Sam did this to me,” she answered, her body tense as she gestured to her scars.“I’m not going to lie and tell you they’re not dangerous. But they’re good kids. And Jake has always been in more control than the rest of them.”

“I’m sorry, Emily.” Mom quickly turned to her. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Emily cut her off, keeping her eyes steady on the quilt. “But I’m not gonna sit here and be made an example of.”

Mom nodded solemnly. “I get it. That’s why I’m letting Maya decide if she wants to be with Jake.”

“What?” I asked. “You mean after all of this shit went down, after I find out Jake is a werewolf, you’re just gonna let me go see him?”

Mom scoffed, “I can’t control you, honey. You’re just like how I was, and believe me, I was out of control.”

Emily and I looked at each other as I felt the heat of embarrassment rush to my face. Mom’s reputation on the rez was that she was fast, after all. Even so, a smile cracked on both of our faces as laughter escaped us.

“What? I’m not gonna pretend like I wasn’t,” Mom gave a weak smile, giving a teasing poke at my side, “But I was a million times unhappier having my mom tell me who I could and couldn’t see. It was complicated enough without shifters involved.”

“So you’re letting me hang out with the guys?” I asked. I couldn’t believe my mom was letting me see them now that they had become infinitely more dangerous to me.

Mom’s eyes became glassy and her lower lip began to tremble. “I tried to go by Grandma’s rules to make her happy. I thought I was being a bad mom if I didn’t. And to be honest, I still don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. But I know that I don’t wanna do what Ma did to me.”

Emily gave a warm smile as looked between Mom and I. I couldn’t help but feel my own eyes water, a stone forming in the pit of my throat as she wrapped her arms around me. She sniffled into my hair, holding me close to her.

“I love you,” she said. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course, Mom,” I replied, trying to swallow back my tears.

“But you’re gonna be careful,” Mom insisted, giving my arm a squeeze. “Jake can come over if that’s what you want, but I’m gonna know about it.”

I nodded. “Yeah, Mom. I just don’t know what I want right now.”

Emily reached for my hand. “You’re not gonna know now. It took me a while after the accident to make up my mind about Sam. But I decided to stay with him not just because I love him, but because I know he can’t help what he is.”

I looked into her eyes, dark and wide, knowing her intent to reassure me. But as much as I was scared to, I knew I needed answers from the right person. The person who brought me to this point.

“Let me talk to Jake,” I said, “I can handle it.”

Emily and Mom walked me to the living room where I met some familiar faces. Embry, Quil, and Jacob all sat together on the couch. The boys wore shorts and no shirts, watching me attentively. Jacob’s eyes were wide as he watched me near them, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey Amaya," Quil got out. He cracked a stiff smile, a steady arm around Jake's broad shoulders. Jake's chest moved high and low against his breathing almost deliberately. 

 _Inhale, exhale._ I did the same as I watched him, feeling my neck prickle in fear. We were both just as scared of one another—but what he was afraid of, I had no clue. 

Embry smirked, almost as if we were back in Quil's garage working on his car. He chimed, “You’re in on the secret.”

I smiled sheepishly as Quil gave him a shove. A silence settled between all of them as I looked over at Jacob, who exhaled as soon as he saw my lightened expression. His face fell into his hands, letting them work through his hair.

“Come on,” I said, walking over to him gingerly. “Let’s talk outside.”

He rose to his feet, letting me lead him towards the patio. We shut the front door behind us, greeted by a breeze tinged with the salt of the ocean. A windchime sang as Jake and I stood, side by side, watching the conifers sway. Jacob’s hand reached for mine, his fingertips just barely grazing mine. His eyes were pleading, his lips pursed shut. I gave his hand a squeeze and held onto it.

“Is this it?” Jake asked, seeing tears form at his lids. He sniffed, looking off for a moment to compose himself. “Are we done?”

“...Is that all you’re worried about?” I asked.

“Just answer me. Are we done because of what I am?” he insisted.

“Jacob, you started shaking, just like Paul did, and you turned into a humongous wolf. You all get into these terrible rages and can hurt people,” I explained, "I'm scared. I don't know what to do with all this information."

“But you know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asked, wiping at his eyes roughly.

I was quiet.

“I saw how scared you were when you were just waking up,” Jacob began, “I hate seeing you like that, Maya. I hate remembering how your mom hit you that night. I’d never wanna see you that way again.”

“But can you control yourself?” I asked, pulling my hand away from him.

“God, Maya, for you I’d keep the whole pack in line. There is no one that I’d let hurt you. Not even myself,” Jake said, his voice stiff against the lump in his throat.

“Shut up,” I whispered and looked at my feet. “It’s one thing to say it and another thing to do it.”

“Haven’t I been?” he asked.

“You are…” I stopped myself, the anxiety taking over me and my hands shaking at my sides. “You're something I never thought was even possible.”

“Just tell me,” he said, “You know the truth now. I promised I’d give it to you and you told me it was holding you back. Do you still want me?”

I was asking myself the same question. The boy I met and the boy that stood before me had changed into two entirely different people within the course of a day. My heart was racing, partly because I didn't know how dangerous Jake was and how scared I was of this keeping us even further apart than we already were.

I sighed. “I do, Jake. But I still don’t get everything. You’re gonna keep on asking me if I want you, and there’s more holding me back. It's not just your secret and we both know it.”

Jake opened his mouth to speak, the front door creaking open. Sam’s wary face appeared from behind the door, his glare firm on Jacob.

“Em told me I should step in,” Sam said, his voice hushed. 

“We don’t need the help,” Jacob replied, squaring his shoulders.

He shut the door behind him, entering our conversation anyway.

Sam turned to me as he spoke, “There’s something you should know. It’s the fact that Jacob and the rest of the pack can hear, I don’t know, everything within a mile. Not to mention that whenever we shift, we can hear his thoughts.”

My face fell into my hands, the heat rushing to my face. Everything Jacob and I had said to each other had been made known to all of his friends—not just our conversation on the porch but every conversation, period. How could we deal with our relationship being put on display like that?

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Jacob asked crossly.

“Watch it,” Sam warned, “I wouldn’t be here if Em didn’t think your girlfriend should know that we heard everything you've been saying.”

Jake sighed in annoyance. As I took my hands away from my heated face, I saw him looking cautiously over to me. 

"The guys and I were hearing all of this and we started talking, really because Jake isn't telling you everything you need to know. Neither of you knows what  _we_ see, which is that Jake has changed a lot since he met you. I know he doesn’t want me to say it but we can all tell you his mind is more than just Bella if you get what I'm saying. What Jake wants to say is that he’s really excited about you. We kind of all are. I mean, even though you guys had that fight he's all, 'I wanna see her again' and 'Is she okay?' and it's been like that for a good while,” Sam said, clearing his throat. His stare wandered from me and to the trees hesitantly, “But what you’re trying to say is that this is a lot to process right now.”

I nodded and despite the red in his cheeks, Jake almost looked relieved at his words by the look of his shoulders loosening up. I didn’t think either of us was expecting Sam to be so diplomatic.

Sam shifted uncomfortably for a moment and added, “Look, I know you can tell he’s a nice guy. We can tell you just wanna take things slow. What do you think, Maya?”

I would need time to understand what a werewolf did, what they protected the tribe from, and other abilities they had. There were still so many questions to ask. But I had the truth in front of me, and although I'd have to be careful, I could at least hope to try and understand Jake for who he really was.

“I mean… that’d be nice,” I swallowed, watching the tension dissolve between Sam and Jake.

“Jake. Can you handle that?” Sam asked.

Jake sighed and nodded.

“Good. Let’s go, guys.” Sam suddenly bounded off the front steps of the porch, Quil and Embry opening the front door and in tow.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“We’ve gotta go on patrol,” Quil answered, “The others are waiting for us.”

The boys turned to us from the yard, looking at Jacob expectantly for him to join them. Jacob instead watched me weakly, sucking in his cheek.

“Jake,” I said, “I get it. I wanna figure this out as much as you do.”

“You do?” he asked.

“For you,” I said, my heart beating hard in my chest, “I don’t care if I pass out a million times over.”

He snorted, his bleak composure finally breaking. I felt a smile curl on my face in return, and I instinctively pulled him in for a hug that he reciprocated with a tight squeeze. I was lifted into the air briefly, his hands on the small of my back.

Things didn’t quite make sense yet. But when he hugged me, when he smiled… things felt a little bit more right.

“I’ll see you soon,” I assured him, “Stay safe.”

“Bye, Maya,” he said.

He pulled away from me and jogged over to the rez boys, who gave their farewells briefly before running into the thick pine and underbrush. Jacob gave one more lingering glance at me before leaving, my eyes remaining at the spot where he had stood.

Somehow, just outside of the old Turner house, I saw that Jacob, the boy I hoped I could love was a copper wolf that stalked the forest amidst a pack of fearsome wolves.

I remembered the words Jacob murmured in his sleep, fear twisting in my stomach as I realized what they meant.

_There’s wolves. There’s so many._

_I just wanna stay._

_I don’t wanna go back._

 


	9. Awaited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Amaya reunite. Quil has a small revelation.

I could see footprints in the damp sand. The tide was weak and not high enough to take them away. I couldn't distinguish how many pairs there were; they overlapped and went into the same direction, further and further away from where Malcolm and I sat on the sand. One footpad, its heel lost in the gaggle of prints, almost looked like a wolf's. 

My eyes lost in the sand, I thought of Jacob and his wolfpack. His halves, the beast and the man, were hard to reconcile as one whole. But I knew Jake was either and both, and I'd have to accept it if we were to keep pursuing one another. 

Malcolm was waxing his surfboard which was laid in front of him. I had a rental board from the surf shop he owned off to my side. We'd made a daily routine of going to the beach the week in the aftermath of Jake's revelation. Mom stayed at home, much to Malcolm's disappointment. He tried every morning to get her out of bed, but nothing shook the slump that befell her after her fight with Grandma. It was like it'd taken everything out of her, and she was a husk we had to leave behind. 

As the days went on, I began to enjoy our morning jaunts to the sands of La Push. It was nearly July and the weather was still cold. I hadn't decided if I'd worked up the courage to go and surf in the chilly water, even though our wetsuits would help us retain some warmth. If I didn't look at the hazy overcast ahead, it was almost a perfect summer day. 

"Maya?" Malcolm called to me. I looked up and across from him, my gaze previously at the creasing of the tide and now the crow's feet near his dark eyes. I thought I could see some youth in them as they scanned across my face, some resemblance to the happy face I saw beside my mother's youthful visage in that old photograph on her dresser. He looked like the boy that my mother almost fell in love with before she ran away from this place.

"Come on, what's the matter? I thought you wanted to surf," he said. He dusted off the damp, dark sand that had made its way to his elbows. Malcolm reached for the surfboard leash from his bag and started attaching it to his one of the fins of his board.

"I don't know. It's just nice to get out of the house," I answered. 

"Then what's that look on your face?" he asked. 

I didn't say anything, wondering how all these days had passed and it was like he could read my thoughts just by looking at me. I wished I'd been less transparent. 

"This is supposed to be fun, you know. Your ma and I loved a good tide. It makes you forget everything," he stared wistfully at the water.

Images flashed across my mind. Jake and the wolf, Mom fighting with Gran, and Sam and the boys. My problems were teeming like fish. I was enough hook and bait to catch a sea of them.

"You always seem to know what I'm thinking," I said.

"Your ma gets that look on her face, too. The same thing with her eyebrows that you do when you're sad. It leaves a dimple right in between them," Malcolm said. "You know how to read one Turner, you can read them all." There was no humor in his face, no deepening at the creases in his eyes. 

"Things with Jake are as complicated as they are with Grandma. Maybe that's why we have that same look," I said. 

"Jake doesn't have a choice in complicating life. Your grandma chose to complicate generations' worth of life." Malcolm sighed and I saw his brows curl into anger, an anomaly on his kind face. "Jenny broke away from her for the second and last time. Now, what you choose to do with that old lady is your business. I don't like disrespecting the older people. But don't let her suck you in and spit you out. You'll be dead and breathing."

Malcolm knew the tribe secret. He'd confirmed it to Mom when she was in disbelief at what Grandma and Allison, Sam Uley's mom, had relayed to her from our beginning days in Washington. Malcolm knew because he'd been a cousin of the Clearwaters. At this point, it felt like everyone had known except me. 

"Tribe secrets aren't really secrets at all," I noticed. That gave him a small smile. "So should I love him?"

"God, it shakes the hell out of me how cold you are. So stuck in that burden of grief," Malcolm said.

Me? I was cold?

The tide crashed, the ocean breeze whipped at my hair softly as the seagulls cried out from all around us. I could see the wind carrying them like kites in the sky. 

"No... you just go and love that boy. You go and be a kid. I'll take care of your ma. You've been doing it a long time now and I can see it's taken the youth out of you," he said. 

"You think so?" I asked.

"Can't be young and in love forever," he said. There was a pained look in his eyes. I remembered the picture. He lost an opportunity to love at a young age when Mom ran away. Someplace in me, I wished Mom would feel better and they'd work out. 

"Let's go," he said abruptly. He swept the board under his arm and jogged closer towards the chilly waves. I sighed, knowing I'd fumble them to no avail. 

We were clad in black wetsuits as we reached waist-length water. Malcolm and I began paddling further in. The first time I learned to paddle and pop up on the board was on the sand, and that was only a few days ago. I was still struggling to do it with as much ease as Malcolm could. 

A few waves had passed which I spent watching Malcolm's technique. He'd begin with a plank and walk his feet further onto the board as the wave carried him closer to shore. His knees were bent and eyes were forward as he glided across the water, making it look all too easy.

"Your turn," he said once he'd paddled back. "Come on, you can do it."

I bit my lip. I saw a wave beginning to swell from behind us, knowing that I could catch it if I started to paddle. Moving further away from Malcolm, I felt the familiar burning in my arms as I pushed myself forward. I felt the water carry the board from under me as I stopped paddling. I put my weight into my palms as I pressed them on to the board. I tried to plank on the board like Malcolm did and put one foot forward. I felt unsteady as I started to rise off of the board. My back foot was too set apart, and I lost my balance backwards into the water. 

I felt the salt sting my eyes when I collided into the wave. I waded my arms from underneath the water's surface to bring me closer to air, feeling the tug of the leash on my ankle. 

"You okay?" Malcolm called as he paddled to me. 

I opened my eyes, my vision blurry from the stinging salt. As my sight cleared, I heard a sound far away in the din of crashing water and seagulls cawing. Grabbing my board and sitting on it, I saw four towering figures on the dark sand. 

"Amaya!" A deep voice called as he waved. He was the tallest of the boys there, wearing denim shorts and... nothing else. 

"It's Jake," I realized.

"Looks like you have an audience," Malcolm chuckled. "Go on. I'll follow you." 

"Thank you," I smiled, pushing my wet hair away from my face. I started to paddle my way back to the sand and Malcolm came along.

I waded through the water until my feet could touch the sand. As we closed the gap between us, I could see their individual faces. It was Seth, Embry, Quil, and of course, Jake. Jake was smiling the widest.

"Hi," he greeted. Jake immediately went in for a hug, ignoring the fact that I was soaked in water. I had to drop my board as his tight embrace lifted me from the ground and I couldn't help but feel laughter escape me. He was eager to see me, something I was grateful for. The familiar warmth emanating from him was something I was all too happy to feel again as I wrapped my arms around him. We pulled apart for Embry and Quil to give me side-hugs, and Seth and I exchanged a shy wave. Malcolm and the boys exchanged hello's as well once he brought himself ashore.

"I guess I'll be seeing you later," Malcolm smiled, "I'll be at the shop. I have to teach a class at two. Just call if you want me to take you home."

"Alright, Malcolm," I said.

He gathered his bag from our spot in the sand in one hand and his board under his other arm. "Bye, guys."

We waved and said good-byes as well to Malcolm, and I was happy he was so eager to let me be with my friends. I felt bad one of our surf days was cut short, but I'd find some way to make it up to him. 

"Damn, I didn't know you could surf," Quil laughed. 

"I'm just starting to learn," I said as I felt my face redden. "I kind of made an ass out of myself." I started to take off the leash and set the surfboard near my blue drawstring bag. 

"It was cool even if you took a wipeout. I can't surf for shit," Embry said.

I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. So much time had passed since we'd last seen each other. At least, it felt that way since he hadn't come around all week. Embarrassingly, I called him once just to check in on him and make sure he'd sleep well. Knowing the guys knew that made me slightly uneasy. I didn't like my personal life to be passed around for discussion, telepathically or not. Jake's arm settled around my shoulders and I let one wrap around his waist.

"So?" Embry said, breaking the momentary silence. "You're not freaked out?"

"I'd guess not, Embry," Quil said, rolling his eyes.

"I mean, it was nice to have some time to think about things," I admitted.

"Like what?" Embry asked. 

"Well... what Emily said," I said shyly, not wanting to insult them. 

"You're not wrong to think we're dangerous. Just know Jacob is the least dangerous," Quil smiled as he turned to me. 

"Yeah," Seth gave a laugh, "I guess we all lose it sometimes. But not Jake."

I smiled at Seth's admiration for Jacob. He was like an adoring little brother that as an only child I'd always wished for. 

"You're scaring her," Jacob warned. His voice wasn't threatening, but cautious. His eyes panned across my face as if to make sure he was right.

"I'm fine," I lied, "I guess I'd just like more of an explanation."

"So there are these vampires, right?" Embry blurted.

The boys gave a groan. 

"Come on." Quil gave him a shove. 

"That's a whole other story," Jacob said tersely with a wave of his hand, "Let's not get into it."

"What? She's gonna have to know eventually," Embry said with a sense of impatience. "I mean, that's why we exist. To protect the tribe from the vampires, even if it sounds pretty stupid. The real problem right now though, is that Bella, right? We all know Bella. Bella likes one of the vampires around town."

"You're kidding!" I cried out in disbelief. 

The boys stopped and looked at me in my outburst. "Stop kidding like that," I protested. 

"He's not kidding," Jacob said quietly. 

Seth asked, "Are you gonna faint again?"

"I'm not gonna faint," I answered, trying to keep my voice level, "But you mean... There are real vampires. And Bella likes... one of the ones around town."

"Yeah. Edward Cullen from the Cullen family. They're like, a hundred years old. We had a deal and said, 'Don't come around here. Don't bite anyone. Don't eat anyone and we won't hurt you'. And they had to say okay 'cause it was us against them. We're pretty fuckin' strong," Quil said.

"They're talking about the treaty the tribe made with them," Jacob explained, "Back when my great-grandfather was chief."

"Stay away from the Cullens," Embry warned, ignoring Jacob, "They say they like to eat animals but vampires are all the same. They want the real thing. The human blood."

"Shit," I said, "I can't believe this. So there's just, vampires walking around town. And nobody knows."

"You guys are scaring her." Jacob's voice was on the brink of anger.

"I'm okay," I said, squeezing his hand that was now at my side. I could feel a cold sweat forming but I tried to ignore it.

"Maybe you should change or something. You're freezing." Jacob was trying to change the subject. 

"I've got clothes in my bag," I said, reaching for the zipper behind my neck.

"You're gonna change here?" Jake asked. He gave a cautious look at each of the boys. 

Quil covered his eyes. "Not looking," he said. 

"You already know she's not my type," Embry said, "No offense."

"I've got a bathing suit under," I laughed. I found it flattering that Jacob was protective of me, even if it was unnecessary. 

Jacob helped pull the zipper down my back, seeming satisfied at their aversion. I began to peel off the wetsuit. Halfway, I reached for my bag and pulled out a shirt. The ocean air felt brisk against my arms.

"Yeah, so. We all hate them. It's kinda hard not to hate Bella because Jacob wouldn't shut up about her," Embry chuckled. I was still peeling off the rest of the wetsuit to change into some shorts when I looked up at Jacob for his response.

"That's not true," Jacob defended himself. He wasn't breathing heavy but I could sense the agitation in his voice. He was struggling to stay calm. "I always shut up about her."

" _Now_ you do," Embry and Quil said in unison. They shot a glance at me.

"Jinx!" Seth shouted, "Knock on wood!" 

"Fuck," Embry breathed as he broke into a sprint for the nearest piece of driftwood. He knocked on it three times and jogged back. 

"Dude. That's sacred driftwood. Everything on our beach is sacred," Quil said.

"So?" Embry asked.

"Your jinx means shit," Quil said. The boys laughed.

"Alright," Jacob's voice cut through all the chatter. "Can I have some time with my girlfriend?"

The boys were quiet but grins spread across their faces as they gave each other knowing glances. 

"Girlfriend, huh?" Seth asked. They gave a collective 'ooh'.

"Maybe that's the most shocking thing I heard all day," I said as my face reddened. I was fully changed and putting away the soaking wetsuit, which I'd have to return to Malcolm later.

"It slipped," he said as his jaw tensed.

"Let's go eat," Quil said. The tension in Jacob's shoulders visibly loosened at the words. 

"Fine," Embry agreed, "But let's go to my place."

Quil muttered something and Seth laughed. "We'll be back," Quil said. 

"See you," I waved. I watched as they walked further off towards the parking lot and away from the beach.

Jacob sighed. "That was a lot to take in."

"I know." I gave a sheepish smile. 

"We're going slow," Jake said pointedly, "I know that's what you want. It was just a slip."

"A Freudian one." I felt my smile broaden.

I hadn't noticed my hands were shaking. It wasn't cold enough to be because of the climate. No, I was shivering from a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I was excited to be alone with Jacob, but nervous at the news there were more supernatural creatures running about. 

We sat together on the damp sand next to my board. He reached for my hands, one hand covering my clasped ones and settling them in its warmth. 

"It's actually kind of cool, if you think about it," I lied.

"No reason to be scared," Jake sighed, and put an arm around me. "I mean, Sam has been letting me keep patrol closer to town. Just so I know you're safe."

"You mean... like at night, when you change?" I asked. 

Jacob shrugged. "Yeah. If it's weird to you, I'll stop doing it. It's just when your mom flew off the handle, Sam could hear and see everything that happened when we shifted. He knew I was worried about you. We were all worried. So I'd just hang around and wait to hear something, just in case you really needed me."

I gave a small smile. "That was really nice of you," I said, "Thank you."

"It was nothing." Jake shrugged. He held me closer to him, tight to his side as he said it. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes as he pursed his lips. "I just hated hearing you cry."

"You heard that?" I asked. 

He nodded, "We all kinda did."

I hated people seeing any part of me that was vulnerable. It was one thing if it was Jacob, especially after all we'd been through. But knowing the pack must have known all of that made me feel slightly exposed.

I said, "It's crazy that you can hear what so many people are up to. There's no secrets. Especially since you can read each other's minds."

"It drives me crazy. I know way too much about what's going on in my friends' heads. I know more than people ever want me to know. It gets easier to tune it all out and just focus on what's in my head but no one ever shuts up. You're in a room full of people, no, a city, and no one ever stops talking and you just have to hear it all. The good and the bad." 

I rested my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jake." 

"It's not so bad. I could hear the fight with Sam and your grandma and that's how I knew to come by. Or with you and your mom," he added, "I can put up with it knowing it helps you."

"You have a big heart," I said, reaching for his hand and letting our fingers intertwine. "Never lose it on anybody."

"I'm not perfect," Jake snorted, "I've been so stupid. Everyone's had to put up with my whining. Even you."

"Forget about that. I'm just as whiny. I think we're all perpetually stupid at this age," I said. Jacob smiled, his pearly whites contrasting against his warm, russet skin. "You're maybe the least stupid out of a lot of us, though."

He laughed, a deep and lovely sound. "I'm flattered."

"Jacob!" A voice called. I couldn't make out who the standalone figure was in the faraway distance, just near one of the beach entrances. "It's smoking again."

Jacob sighed. "Let's go and see what that's about. I can put your board in the Rabbit."

Jacob and I walked hand-in-hand to meet the boys, my surfboard under my arm, as they turned back to the source of their concern. Jacob's large palm against mine was enough to make my heart flutter. He'd slipped up before, calling me his girlfriend. It was getting harder and harder not to feel like I was. As we wordlessly strolled along the beach, his brazen body unaffected by the colder air, I thought I could see him taking glances down at me. Each time I thought I'd feel my heart stop, wondering what he was thinking as he did. 

We came face to face with Embry's Nissan in the beach parking lot. Seth was sipping a melted slushie in the shotgun seat while Quil and Embry leaned against the car.

"It's smoking?" Jake asked. 

"Every time I start it up. It's like fumes everywhere," Embry said. 

"Pop the hood," Jake said, and Embry went to pull a lever by the driver's seat. "It'll be a few minutes," Jake added, looking apologetically at me. 

"It's fine," I reassured him. His thumb rubbed against my hand as his eyes lingered on mine for a long moment. I realized my cheeks felt sore; I'd been smiling the whole way back. 

"I'll put it in the Rabbit," Jake said, reaching for my board. I began to hand the board off to him and in one swift motion, he surprised me with a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned in the direction of his car. He smiled at me coyly, seeming satisfied by my sense of shock. My stomach fell in delight and the soreness at my cheeks felt tighter. I was about to walk after him before Quil stopped me.

"Hey, Amaya," Quil said, taking a step towards me. His arms were crossed as he took one glance back at Jacob, who stopped in his tracks and was watching him now carefully. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

I looked between Quil and Jacob, reading some unspoken tension by the telling of Jacob's suddenly puffed chest. Quil's stiff shoulders hinted at his resolve not to pay him any mind.

"Yeah, sure," I agreed tentatively. Jacob didn't say anything as Quil started heading down the concrete stairs and closer to the beach. I followed him, confused as to what he would have to say to me. 

"I know this is weird," Quil began, "You and Jacob are really close, right?"

"Right," I said, pushing a strand damp hair behind my ear. Quil and I continued to bound down the steps before he had stopped, looking behind us as if to decide we were far enough away from Jake.

"Well, like, you know we don't have any secrets. I think it'd be weird not to say it but like... when we first met you, I kinda had like, a crush on you." Quil's words sounded rushed, and he looked up from his gaze at the ground to look at me expectantly.

"Oh, uh..." I began, but words didn't come out. Was this some sort of test or prank? Jake could most definitely hear us talking. 

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to get it out there. Jake knows, obviously," Quil said and cleared his throat. "I just thought I read you as liking me back."

I laughed, much more out of nervousness than humor. "I mean, Jake and I are pretty serious."

"It's fine, like... I just wanted to say it to get it out there, but I'm not trying to make a move on you. Jake has changed so much since you guys started talking. He's my best friend and I'd never like, try and take that away." Quil gave a nervous chuckle and ran his hand on the back of his neck. 

"That's fine, I guess," I said, trying to give a smile and diffuse the tension. This was painfully awkward. 

"Jake's just kind of the jealous type. If I didn't make it clear he'd keep worrying about it."

"I didn't know he was jealous," I said, "Protective, sure, but..."

"Believe me," Quil snorted, "It's been on his mind for a minute now."

"Amaya," Jacob suddenly called. I turned around to see him at the top of the stairs looking down at us. His eyes shifted between Quil and me, his arms crossed across his bare chest. "I think we should go. It's gonna rain."

"Sure," I called back. I turned my attention back to Quil, whose shy exterior had sagged into a frown. I wondered if I had disappointed him somehow.

"Let's just forget it," he said. "We're friends."

"Just friends," I agreed as we began to head up the stairs.

When I reached Jacob again and felt his arm wrap around my waist, I felt his body stiff against me as he turned to face Quil. Embry was just closing the hood of the car, looking warily between the three of us. 

"Glad you got that out in the open," Jake said through a tense jaw.

"Just trying to be honest," Quil replied. 

"I'm gonna take her back home," Jake said, and turned to look at me. He pushed hair away from my face as he added, "She's freezing, anyway."

"Fine." Quil threw his hands up. 

Oddly enough, Quil and Embry didn't say their good-byes as they entered the Nissan. Jake silently held onto my hand, leading me further and further away from them as I heard the Nissan's engine start. 

"What was that all about?" I asked. Jake took a stained lanyard with keys attached from his pocket, unlocking the car as he turned it in the lock at the handle. He wordlessly got into the driver's side. I slipped in, closing the door behind me as he pulled a t-shirt from the backseat. 

"Jake?" I asked expectantly.

He ignored me and pulled the shirt over his head, tugging it over his taut and sculpted torso. The sleeves were tight at his biceps, his muscles rippling underneath the fabric as he brought the key to the ignition. The engine started and Jake brought his glare to me, his smoldering black eyes holding back anger. 

"Don't tell me you knew all this time," Jake murmured.

"I don't know where any of this came from," I defended myself. 

"I know where it did," Jacob snorted. He shifted the gear back into reverse and started steering his way out of the parking spot. "God, fuck him. I can't believe he thought that was a good idea."

"I'm just confused," I said. "Why is this such a big deal? It's over with."

"He knows I like you, Amaya," he growled as he threw the car back into drive. "He wants to call  _me_ jealous? As if that wasn't some kind of move on you?"

"I don't think he was trying to put you down, Jake," I said, putting my seatbelt on. Jake was driving too fast for my liking.

"I know what's in his head and he knows what's in mine," Jacob said, slapping his hand back down on the wheel. "What, just because he liked you first he has some kind of claim on you?"

"You have a point there," I murmured, "Take it easy on the gas."

Jacob sighed, listening to my protest and ran a hand through his hair. One hand stood on the wheel, easily maneuvering a turn onto La Push Road, a fifteen-mile stretch back to Forks. 

"He should have run it by me," Jacob insisted, shifting in his seat. "It was pointless to steal you away like that. Unless he's trying to get in your head or something."

"It's fine, Jake," I said as I shook my head, "It's not like anything's changed."

"I don't like how he did that," Jake asserted, "Something's not right."

"It's fine," I repeated, "You worry too much."

Jacob opened his mouth to say something and I worried I'd get an outburst from him, but instead he took a long breath outward and inward. I could tell he was doing his best to remain calm, despite Quil getting on his nerves.

"You're right," Jacob said. I thought he was reaching for my hand, but he decided to rest his hand on my thigh. I thought I could feel my heart skip a beat when he did and I looked up at him. I could see his jaw relaxing, the tension leaving his body like heat simmering away into smoke. "I won't think about it. Maybe he was just, I don't know, testing you."

A moment of silence rested uneasily between us. I couldn't offer much else to his guesses - he knew Quil much better than I did. All I could think to do was take his tough-skinned hand in mine, bring it to my lips for a soft kiss. I watched as one side of his pursed lips curled upwards into a smile of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget about Quil's and Amaya's close encounters. Quil and Jacob have some conflict brewing within the pack and Amaya is only just seeing it now. Don't worry, I'm not plotting a love triangle. Or am I? 
> 
> Come back next update to find out! Give it a bookmark if you wanna see what happens next.


	10. Edge of the Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter does contain some NSFW elements.

In the moments he was calming down, I averted my gaze towards the spruces and hemlock trees that lined La Push Road. When he reached over and put his palm over my hand, squeezing as he took hold of it, I knew he was trying to offer some reassurance that he was okay. I looked up at him occasionally, noticing his shoulders release tension as time passed more and more. He gazed pleadingly at me once he'd caught me stealing another glance.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Quil and I usually don't get mad at each other."

"Friends fight," I reassured him. 

He asked, "I mean, did I do something wrong? You keep looking over at me."

"No, Jake, you didn't. Why would you think something like that?" I asked.

Jake sighed. "It feels like you're nervous because you're waiting for me to do something wrong."

"I don't know, Jake. I never know what'll set any of you off. I have to be aware of what could, and it's a little scary if I'm honest."

"Do you feel that now?" Jake asked.

"Maybe I'm a little anxious, but it's normal to feel that way around someone you like," I revealed, "It's not so scary when it's just you and me."

"Is that so?"

"I thought it was obvious," I said. "You're pretty intimidating, Jake, but not for the reasons you're thinking of."

"I would have never guessed. You're hard to read," he said. "Do you get butterflies?"

"What kind of question is that?" 

"I'm feeling something similar and I'm just wondering if we're having the same symptoms here," he said, a repressed smirk on his face. 

"If I did, what would be the diagnosis?" I asked.

"I'm thinking it's something on the lines of a... crush, you know. I think they warned me about those in sex-ed."

"We won't be needing what they taught us in sex-ed," I said, playfully shoving his hand away from my lap. 

"Have you ever had to?" Jake asked. 

"I mean, I've done it." I crossed my arms, unsure of how he'd react. "What about you?"

"Well..." Jake trailed off.

" _You_ haven't," I guessed.

"No, not really. Kissing, yeah. But things got kinda weird when I went through the change, you know," Jacob explained.

"Puberty?" I wondered with a raised brow.

Jake gave a short laugh. "God, no. I mean when I shifted for the first time," he explained. "Sure, it's easy to hurt someone when you're mad. Maybe you shift all of a sudden and that by itself is dangerous. But with a girl? It's easy to forget how much stronger you are."

"So how do you know for sure that you could hurt someone?" I asked.

"The guys have had plenty of close calls," Jacob answered hesitantly. "Broken beds. Bruises. Dents in the wall."

Jake pulled up to the curb, stationing the car in front of the house. I recalled the first time he dropped me off and how we had almost kissed, or the way he had comforted me when the night had gone awry. What if we had gone too far like I found myself wanting at times? 

Jacob put the car in park and turned off the engine. "I haven't kissed anyone since I shifted."

"Do you think you could handle it?" I asked suggestively.

Jake looked from my eyes to my lips and took a long exhale. "I wouldn't count on it."

His arm reached across the divider, his hand running along my knee and to my upper thigh. His fingers went to my waist, brushing just underneath my bra line. In response, my hand went to his feverish chest, knowing that burning just underneath the fabric was his smooth, copper skin. 

His head was tilted as he leaned closer to my lips. His inky lashes rested against the moons under his eyes. His soft lips met my cheekbone, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

"You drive me crazy," he admitted huskily.

"What if you spent the night?" I asked.

Jacob's eyes wandered from me and back to the house. "And is that allowed?"

"It'd be good for you and my mom to patch things up."

Jacob snorted and took the keys out of the ignition. "We'll see how that goes."

I took my drawstring bag from its place at my feet, the light blue fabric soaked with the water from the wetsuit, and exited the car. Jacob followed, his hand on the small of my back, as we made our way up the smooth concrete path to the front door. Looking up at the sky, its pearly daytime appearance darkened, I could tell the sun was just beginning to set. After ringing the doorbell and hearing its three chimes, my mother's face appeared once the door was opened.

"Oh," she choked in surprise as her eyes went from me to Jake. "I wasn't expecting you both to be back so soon!"

Translation: she wasn't expecting me to come back with Jake.

"Hi," Jake said in a level tone. A polite smile began to warm his face, but I could tell he was using discretion with Mom. His arm was placed defensively around my shoulders.

I internally cringed at the thought of his first visit here. I tried to push it to the back of my mind; things were a lot better in regards to Mom's headspace. She was by no means handling her conflict with Grandma well, but I knew she was doing her best to be her old self again.

"Come in, come in," Mom rushed, waving us in. We stepped through the threshold. The television was on, giving some news story about a young girl's disappearance in Seattle. I noticed Mom was wearing sweats and an oversized t-shirt, her hair looking slightly disheveled. 

"I'm surprised Malcolm didn't come back with you for dinner," Mom said, "He called earlier saying you were out with the boys."

"Oh, I forgot to call him and say I wouldn't need a ride back," I realized. 

"It's fine," Mom said, "I'll just call him." She looked at Jake pensively, his squared shoulders showing hostility. "Listen, Jake. I'm really sorry about what happened here last time."

"I wouldn't let it happen again," Jake said plainly. I didn't know if that was a threat or not.

"I won't," Mom said, bearing no malice in her words. "Amaya and I have talked about this."

"It's true, Jake. Don't worry about it," I said. I knew it would take more than that to get Jake to ease up, and I didn't blame him. I still felt angry whenever I remembered the pain she'd laid into me, the bruises now yellowed away into healthy skin. It would always be hard to forget what she did.

"Let me take that, Amaya," Mom said, noticing the drenched bag in my hands. "I'll just warm something up for dinner when Malcolm gets here. You're welcome to stay, Jacob."

"Sounds good," he said. Mom turned away and I remembered what I originally wanted to ask her.

"Oh, Mom, can Jake spend the night?" I asked. She seemed surprised that I had asked, her eyebrows raising against the creases in her forehead.

Mom gave us a sheepish nod. "That would be... fine... I guess."

"Ma," I protested at her hesitance, "What's the matter?"  

"Just be safe," Mom asserted with a pointed finger. Her eyes shifted between the two of us. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you how."

"You don't," I said. "We're gonna go upstairs now. To my room."

Mom nodded with an eyebrow raised. "Don't get too crazy up there."

I sighed and began making my way up the stairs, hearing Jacob stifle a laugh behind me.

"Shut up," I chastised him as my face heated up.

I let out a yelp of surprise as I was suddenly scooped off of my feet and into Jacob's arms, bridal style. My damp hair swung against my back as my gaze was brought to Jacob, smirking proudly now that he had caught me off guard.

"What are you doing?" I whispered. 

He didn't answer as he walked us into my bedroom, which was dim from the lackluster light of the sun fall. He shut the door with his heel and strode to my bed, where he laid me down onto my back. Jake positioned himself on top of me, leaning in before hearing something clatter to the floor. 

"What was that?" Jacob asked. 

I realized we had been laying down on a layer of old clothes I had pulled out from my closet, some of which I was planning to donate earlier. I pushed him back slightly and saw that a hanger had fallen from the quilt, where a dozen items of clothes rested underneath us. Jake realized a dress was underneath his palm and pulled it out for him to inspect as he sat upright. 

"I'm sorry," I said as I got up from the bed. "Let me just clean this up."

I picked up the clothes, draping them over my arm and hastily shoving them in my closet. In the process, I'd taken one glance at the mirror and realized my damp hair was now frizzy and unkempt. I reached for a brush from my vanity and began to comb through it, hoping to tame it in some last-ditch effort to make myself look more attractive. 

"Try this on," Jake ordered. In the reflection of the vanity mirror, I saw him put the dress back down on the duvet. It was a pink dress with a wrap skirt, one that I'd worn to a homecoming dance a few years ago.

"Excuse me?" I turned around, amused by his request.

"You'd look good in it," Jake said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. 

I sighed, about to protest. Jake reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled the fabric upwards and away from his body. 

"I'll change, too." He began to unbutton his shorts. 

"No peeking," I said.

"You either," Jacob replied.

I reached around for the dress and saw Jake's eyes hiding behind the guard of his hand. I undressed quickly and put the dress over my head. The blush-colored fabric hugged at my waist and curves, teasing a peek at my cleavage. 

"You can look," I said, lifting my hair away from the front of my shoulders.

"Wow," Jacob exhaled as my eyes met his. His eyes washed over me, down from my shoulders to the bottom of my dress. I couldn't help but stare at him either as he sat in his gray boxers, every muscle in his built body exposed. I thought I could see a bulge growing in the gray fabric, but I brought my gaze back up to his eyes before he could notice my wandering stare. 

"You're beautiful," he said simply. I rolled my eyes at his words and smiled with some embarrassment.

"I'd never lie to you," Jacob said. I was surprised by the way his eyes remained captured with me, scaling every detail on my body and face. I walked over to his place on the bed, feeling somewhat shy now that I had his utmost attention.

His large hands easily fell onto my hips, giving a squeeze before one worked their way up to my breast. I slid onto his lap, carefully working my body into a straddling position as the dress shifted further up my thighs. In the slowness of his touch, I could see feel he was holding back. He was coiled, ready to spring at any moment and all I had to do was say the word. Jacob pressed his lips against my neck, kissing it once, twice. I felt his tongue trace where he'd kissed it. My hips shifted at his kiss, feeling the bulge in his boxers hard against my bare skin. He reacted quickly to the touch by gripping my hips and holding me closer to his.

"You sure you're ready?" he whispered. He exhaled against my neck, resting his kiss against me once more and letting his teeth trace along my skin. I felt the hair on the back of my neck raise. 

"I want to be," I whispered back. 

"That's not enough, Amaya," he growled. I fell in love with the way he said my name.

"Will you hurt me?" I asked.

"...I don't know," Jacob answered. He sighed and brought his hand to my jawline, caressing my face as he put a strand of hair behind my ear. I saw his copper cheeks tinged with red and his body felt beyond feverish. "Even if it's just a couple of bruises, I don't want to do that to you."

I was partially relieved by his words. There was plenty of lust between Jacob and I, something that made it easy for us to rush into things. I could easily get hurt with him if I wasn't careful, and I knew that didn't just apply physically. 

"It can wait," I said. 

Jacob and I's chest were moving almost in tandem, breathing heavily from the excitement that had been sparked between us. He held onto me, wrapping his brawny arms around me in an embrace and our lips just inches apart. 

We weren't just two people on the verge of some unknown, emotional expanse. We weren't just experiencing hormones that stole away any hesitation and left recklessness in its wastes.

Something felt like love. That in itself didn't scare me. It was looking into Jacob Black's eyes and knowing it might never be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you guys like the bit of NSFW I threw in there. Let me know what you think as always. See you next time!


	11. Red Sabbath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get deep.

"Red," he murmured when I woke. 

Jake's arms were loosely wrapped around me as my eyes opened to near darkness. I remembered he had left after dinner to go on patrol, promising he'd be back later. 

Overhead, I could hear the familiar thundering of a looming storm. I felt one of Jacob's legs flinch under the covers and his arms tighten around me; he was having some sort of a dream. 

"Get away," he barely got out in a whisper. 

I reached to my side of the bed where my night table was and switched on the lamp. I turned in bed to see Jake, a sweat forming on his brow. His thick lashes were framed along his flushed cheeks. His lips were parted slightly, moving slowly as if words were to come out but never did. I wiped a thumb along his forehead gently, feeling his temperature at a high blaze. 

Jake's eyes opened slowly as their dreamlike gaze met mine. In the faint light and so close, I could see his coal-like irises became honeyed with shades of brown, like the bark of the trees that he was beckoned to roam among every night. I saw his pupils dilate as he offered me an exhausted smile.

"I was dreaming again," Jacob realized. 

"You talk when you have nightmares," I explained.

"Thank you," Jake said, "I couldn't take it any longer." His eyes must have felt heavy as his lashes fell slowly once more. He appeared to slip into sleep again before he spoke, "It was about Mom."

I felt a slow breath enter me as I sat up at the words. Jake struggled to speak about his mother. I hardly knew her name or anything about her, really. I saw lightning flash at the window and vanish into the darkness of the night, leaving rolling thunder in its wake. 

"Stay," Jake said, waving me closer to him. He laid on his side in my bed, dressed in a shabby undershirt and sweats he had stashed in his car. Doing as he wished, I laid on my side to face him and felt his arm curl around me once more. 

"It took too long for her to stop," Jake said before clearing his throat. "It was an old Volvo. The brakes weren't the best but they were going to get them fixed soon, you know. Just not before it happened."

A moment of silence, save for the presence of pattering rain, passed.

"In the dream, she had red, curly hair. She ran off one of the high points where we cliff-dive and I followed her. Then deep below, right where the rocks were, I saw her in the car. Torn apart," Jacob murmured. He added, "But you woke me up."

"I'm happy I did," I said, pulling myself closer to him.

I found his hand on my waist and held onto it, watching Jacob's face intently. His brow twitched against the emotion surging across his face. His eyes glossed over slightly, just on the brink of spilling over.

"You know, I was thinking since we talked that one night. You brought up risks."

"I remember," I said.

"Broken things have a lot of risks," Jacob said slowly. He inhaled, "And I hate broken things. It takes everything for me not to fix it." 

"It's okay," I whispered. I ran a hand along his shoulder and let it wander to the small of his back, making a sweeping motion to soothe him. 

"Like, cars and bikes," Jacob said, his voice tight in his throat. "Who's gonna fix them if I don't? If someone dies because I couldn't fix it -"

"No one is gonna die, Jake," I reminded him, "It's okay. It's all okay."

It all came surging out at once. He held onto me tightly, wanting to stifle his crying but I still felt the shake of his sobs as my arms wrapped around his torso. He whispered expletives, his fists tightening into balls at my waist. I let a hand run through the nape of his hair as I shushed him, attempting to calm him.

My heart ached as I remembered the early days of my own grieving. It was like this, of course. Nights spent awake, wide-eyed and lulled into a cry as I realized why I couldn't sleep. 

What pained me about Jake was that he was too young to lose a mother when he did. I wondered how all these years, he'd buried it and tried to leave his mother in the recesses of his mind. At least it happened to me when I was mature enough to know that wouldn't be possible - even on good days, there was a familiar ache in my chest.

Someone I loved was gone. I'd never get them back. 

Jake was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling slowly and smoothly now. He was calming down, and he pulled away from me to wipe his face with the collar of his white t-shirt. He kept his eyes lowered as he wiped his eyes, now with the heels of his hands. I pushed his hands away to kiss his cheek, the salt of his tears on my lips. 

"How do you do it?" Jake asked in a whisper. He looked at me with some hesitation, his lashes spiked and wet. "Your dad's only been gone two years."

"I write letters to him," I revealed. "Almost every day, or if I feel alone, or if I'm mad. How else am I supposed to feel like he's still here?"

"What do you say to him?" Jake asked.

"I just tell him what's happening. I tell him I miss him. It's not really the pretending he's still here part that helps. It's just talking about it that helps," I said with a shrug. 

"He's still here," Jake said, and with an embarrassed smile forming on his face, "He's laughing, 'cause his girl's a lot stronger than me."

"You think so?" I asked, a finger tracing along the laugh line of his smile. I felt water building at my lids, but I held them back. 

"I know so," Jacob murmured. "One day, I'm gonna still be fixing those shitty cars. I'm gonna have a shop and you'll be right around the corner, right about to drive off home without me and I just won't let you. But he'll look down and see you, and he'll be proud because you're not afraid of the odds and I am."

"I wouldn't drive off home without you. I don't think I'd wanna be anywhere without you," I corrected. 

Jake's hand reached for my face before he suddenly pressed his lips against mine, hard. Against the shock of the sudden kiss, I felt paralyzed. My heart was thumping out of my chest as his kiss softened, moving against my own eagerly. A rush overcame me as I found myself moving my lips against his, my hand reaching his cheek to caress him as he pressed his body against mine. His fingers interlaced with the nape of my neck, a thumb brushing against my jawline and neck. His teeth grazed my lower lip, pulling it slightly towards him. 

Our eyes opened, realizing what we'd just shared. Jake breathed heavily, his hand still cradling my neck firmly and his arm coiled around my body. 

"I don't want this to end," Jake whispered. Pain was riddled in his eyes.

"It won't. Not if we can help it," I whispered.

"You're brave, Amaya," he said. 

I'd never felt I was brave my whole life. But when Jake said it, I thought I could actually believe it.


	12. Klexos

At first glance, all one could notice was a curly-headed man with too wide of a smile as he cradled a bundle of white fabric. His cheeks were bright red, forever in mid-laughter as he gazed into the blue and pink striped blanket. My heart swelled, seeing a peek of the red and pouting face of a newborn that was the reason behind his joy.

I wondered how he could love me for everything I was within the few hours of my existence. I was a mere stranger, a seed of a person waiting to grow, and in this picture, I knew I had all of my dad's heart.

The laminated pictures that rested within the hardcover scrapbook produced a heavy ache in my chest. In some other world, in the big city that overlooked the Hudson, I might have smiled at the portrait photo. Manhattan could have very as well been Cloud Nine to me at that moment, and my father just a mere apparition of such a dream. 

"Where's Jake?" Mom asked as she slowly made her way downstairs. She was wrapped in her robe, dressed in leggings and a baggy shirt underneath.

"Asleep," I answered. Wordlessly, she continued her way towards the kitchen.

Jacob had fallen asleep in my arms soon after we kissed, not wanting to let me go. Through the early hours of the morning, I feigned sleep as I rewound our conversation, wondering if truly, my father's laugh and smile could be found somewhere far away as he thought of me. 

Against the cotton of his green button-up, right on his front pocket, was a silver pin that gleamed against the camera's flash. The glowing metal took the form of a wolf that winked at me from the past.

"Mom?" I called to her. I was sitting in a recliner in the living room as Mom shuffled over in her slippers. 

"What is it?" she asked with a yawn. 

"Dad had this pin," I began, tapping a finger on the photo, "It's a wolf. Do you know why he ever had it?"

Mom smiled briefly at the photo, the creasing in her eyes tightening as she did. She gave a sigh and took a seat on the arm of the recliner beside me. 

"I think he was designing a building for a wolf conservation group. He was really passionate about it," Mom began. "He got to see the wolves up close at these rescue shelters. He thought they were beautiful."

I wordlessly allowed my eyes to linger on the photograph. Years ago, the wolf would have meant nothing to me. But now, I could feel my heart inexplicably becoming lighter as hope swelled within me. 

"I still have it somewhere," Mom said, tucking hair behind my ear. "I know what you're thinking."

"What I'm thinking is crazy," I said. 

"It's a sign. Nothing crazy about it." Mom nodded sagely. "You knew to look here for a reason, Amaya. There's no other picture with that pin in it and I would know. I've spent hours looking at these."

"It gives me hope. There's just something about it," I admitted. "I don't know, Mom. It could just be all in my head."

"You know, this picture was only months after we'd moved to New York. Of course, I was happy to have you but I was scared to death of being a mom. I was far from home, all on my own for the first time, and all I had was your father. I didn't even know if me and your dad would work out," Mom explained. "In some ways, we weren't so different from you and Jake. We were doing something incredibly dangerous and no one could have stopped us."

"But it all worked out," I said. 

"Exactly," Mom said. "If you're with a good man and you're happy and he's happy, that's all that matters."

Heavy steps began to descend the stairs. Mom and I both looked up to see Jake, still dressed in his sweats and white t-shirt. His hair was unkempt from rolling around in bed and the creases under his eyes looked softer than usual.

"Good morning." Jake gave a meek wave and bit his lip hesitantly. He must have heard our conversation.

"Good morning," Mom greeted amicably.

Jake crossed his arms when he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes sweeping along the floor before he cleared his throat. 

"Thank you for saying that about me and Amaya," Jake said earnestly. 

Mom exhaled and rose from the recliner. "I don't say what I don't mean."

"Is this a truce?" I asked, my eyes flashing between them.

"It'll do," Jake allowed. 

"I'm glad you think so," Mom agreed with a solemn nod. Her head whipped around at me and back at Jake. "I almost forgot. Your father called and asked to speak with you. Something about Sam needing you at Emily's."

"What could that be about?" I asked, placing the scrapbook on the coffee table.

"The pack regroups at Emily's for meetings," Jacob said, sparing me a hopeful glance. "Would you wanna come along?" 

"Do you need me here, Mom?" I turned to her. I felt somewhat guilty about leaving her home alone until Malcolm got off work. To my relief, she waved me off. 

"No, hon. I'm just gonna be digging through my own stuff to donate," Mom said. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Tying her loose hair into a bun, Mom left Jacob and me to our own devices in the living room. Jacob swung his long gait across the room before stopping at the coffee table. His eyes lingered on the scrapbook and his fingertip pointed at the red face swaddled in a blanket, a smile spreading across his face. 

"Who's that? You?" He asked with a glance up at me.

"Me and Dad," I smiled.

"So you've always been that beautiful," Jake mused. "No wonder he's so happy."

My face warmed at his words. I got up from my seat to wrap my arms around his waist, and he craned his neck to give me a lingering kiss on the cheek. Another kiss dropped lower to my jawline and another to my neck. 

"You should get ready so we can head to Emily's," he murmured. 

"Wouldn't it be weird if I showed up?" I asked quietly.

"I'll be honest. They know what we did last night. The way we almost..." Jake trailed off.

I groaned. "That's so embarrassing."

Jacob scoffed. "If you think that's bad, we all have to hear about what Sam likes about Emily. He can't keep his hands off her."

I rolled my eyes, a smile drawing across my own face. "That's just gross."

"It's my own fault I couldn't stop thinking about what we did," Jacob smirked, unabashed. He added huskily, "Wanna go again?"  

I smacked his arm playfully and tried to withdraw myself from his hold me, his gentle hands suddenly becoming firm on my hips. He made it impossible for me to get away as he pinched my side. I laughed in protest and in return, his mischevious smile filled his face.

"Go get ready," he ordered lowly as he dropped a kiss at my earlobe, "I wanna show you off."

I felt weak at the knees as I pulled away from him. "And what about you?" 

"I've gotta call my dad, but I'll be up in a bit," he said. 

"Alright." Jake released me and I turned on my heel, only to feel a short tap on my bottom. 

"Don't be too long," he laughed. 

"You're a pig," I snapped teasingly at him as my face began to burn. I bounded up the steps to dress, excited for what yet another day on the rez may have in store for me.

* * *

Jake pulled the Rabbit up to a familiar, weathered wooden house. I could now notice several key details about Emily's house in the brightness of daytime, like its shabby front porch and its wide, hanging eave. A worn blue door was open for anybody's entry and beside it, a singular, narrow window carried a box of bright marigolds at its edge. Surrounded by looming trees and greenery, Emily's house looked like a quaint cabin in the woods. 

Jake's hand was held in mine as we walked up the dirt clearing that was just in front of the house. I could vaguely hear the sounds of the boys' shouts and hearty laughter from inside the house, and as we walked up the creaking steps of the front porch, I could see a feminine figure holding a basket just beyond the doorway.

"Hey, Jake," Emily greeted, and added with her voice peaked in surprise, "Oh, Amaya's here, too."

She set down her basket which was to the brim with clothes and jogged over to us, a smile turning up only on the unmarred half of her face. She gave me a side hug upon our entry in the house. 

"The boys are just in the yard," Emily said. Sam rounded a white wooden table with mismatched chairs, holding a bitten apple in his hands as he approached us.

"Hey," Sam addressed us and jutted a nod at Jake. "You're late. We're just about to start."

Behind him I could see several boys, some that I'd never met before, circled in the backyard. Their chatter was effervescent as it carried through the house. I watched as they gave each other playful shoves into the dirt yard beyond the back porch, laughter resounding afterward. A lone female rested her elbows on the railing of the deck, a pin-straight bob barely falling on her shoulders. 

"Amaya-a," one of the boys cooed, drawing my name out ironically. I heard a cacophony of chortles and jokes erupt as heat flushed against my face. The woman on the porch turned her neck towards at their source of amusement. Her hooded eyes met mine, looking sharply at me before turning away.

Jake scoffed, "Don't mind them." He gave me a kiss on the cheek and added, "I won't be long."

Emily smiled at both of us as his hand parted from mine. His heavy boots thundered across the wooden floor further away from me, giving me one last glance before his leviathan figure ducked underneath the doorway and entered the backyard. 

Sam kissed Emily once on her lips and again on the deep scars that ran along her face before following Jake. He shut the glass door behind him, the pack's chatter becoming muffled and then silenced against his booming command. 

"So," Emily began, "You and Jake, huh?" She bent down to carry her basket to the round, wooden table and sat at one of its chairs. She waved me over to join her and I complied.

"Yeah," I smiled politely. 

"It seems like things are going well," she added. She reached for a spool of thread and a needle among other materials that belonged to a repurposed cookie tin. 

I said, "I know. We only kind of met up again yesterday."

"I'm surprised he was able to stay away from you that long," Emily joked as she threaded her needle. "He's been worried about you two. Well, not anymore, I guess."

"I'm surprised he even talks about me," I replied. 

"Everyone knows you stay on his mind. Nothing stays a secret here for long." Emily rolled her eyes. She took a shirt into her hands, deftly found its torn seam and began to sew it back shut. "Have you guys made it official yet?" 

"No... although, we did kiss," I confided and Emily shot me a surprised glance from her work. She rose her free-hand up-top to give me a high-five, a smile on her face. 

"That's exciting," she chimed. "I'll be honest, the guys kept teasing him over when he was gonna do it. He insisted it needed to be in the moment."

"It was," I admitted. 

"He's the romantic of the group," Emily giggled. "It's a good thing to have in a guy."

"Definitely," I said and looked over her work, realizing several of the shirts in the basket had tears. "Are all of these ripped?"

"Yep," Emily said, snipping a thread at the bottom of the mended shirt. "I keep telling them to be more careful before they whip off their clothes. I don't know how many shirts they've gone through this month alone."

"I can help. I'm not the best at sewing though," I offered.

"It'd be a big help," Emily sighed as she passed the sewing tin towards me. "Work around the house has just been piling up lately."

"It seems like a lot of work to do on your own," I noticed as I took a needle in my hand and began to thread it. 

When Emily didn't respond, I looked up at her from the needle and thread in my hands. She was suddenly still, a hand clutched to her stomach. As she rose from the table abruptly, the wooden chair scraping against the floor, I sensed something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" I asked, rising from my chair. 

Emily put a finger to her lips silently, as if motioning for me not to say a word, and set down the torn shirt. She hastily walked towards a hallway, away from the shared living and kitchen area, and ran into a room. Shutting the door behind her, I heard nothing except muffled coughing and hacking. 

I stole a glance at the back glass door, where Sam had paused from speaking to look into the house. I pushed my chair back under the table and wiped my clammy hands along my shirt, unsure of how to be of help. I finally heard the toilet flush and a sink running before Emily reappeared. 

"What's wrong?" I whispered, not wanting to be loud. 

"Just a stomach bug," Emily said as she gingerly walked her way back from the hallway.

"Maybe you should be resting," I began, "Are you taking any medicine?"

She shook her head, her bangs shaking slightly at her forehead. Emily took a calculated glance at the glass door, where just beyond it Sam resumed speaking to the boys. Assuming she was out of his sight, she put a hand to her belly and looked back at me. 

"Don't say anything," she mouthed.

"Why?" I mouthed back. 

"I'm pregnant," she revealed silently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure the story is going to have to be more than 20 chapters. I've got a lot more planned!


	13. Santo de la Mente

"Emily, I don't know what to say." I was reeling in the wake of her revelation. 

"Not a lot of people know. I only found out recently," she began. She gave me an elated smile. Even the marred side of her lips tweaked slightly upwards, allowing a remnant of joy to appear through its usual stillness. Her cheerful expression quickly gave way into a warning stare. "This doesn't mean you can tell anyone, though. I don't want Sam worrying about me."

"I won't say anything. I promise," I said. 

"That includes Jake. Nothing stays secret around here for long." She looked pallid against her bout of sickness as she poured herself a glass of water. "That's been the reason why it's so hard to get any work done around here. I'm just way more tired than usual."

"Well, I'd love to help around here, Emily," I offered.

"It'd be a lot to ask of you," Emily said, looking sheepish to accept.

"I'm practically free all day. Besides, being on the rez is way more exciting than Forks," I said. 

"If you really mean it, do you think you could come by tomorrow? I just need someone to help clean up," she asked.

"Sure. I can give you my number," I said. 

Emily gave me a relieved sigh as she pulled a napkin from its holder and found a stray pen. "You have no idea how helpful that'd be," she said as I wrote down my number. She pinned the napkin to the fridge with a magnet as she said, "It's just the guys have been spending nights here, showering here, eating here. Sam has them pushing longer hours."

"Why? Because of the Cullens?" I asked.

"No, there's more vampires than just them around here," Emily said. I was shocked by how nonchalantly she'd put it. She must have sensed my surprise as she asked, "Didn't Jake tell you about the treaty?" 

"He did, but he didn't mention there were _more._ " 

She sighed. "There's really only one they've been trying to kill. It's been hard to catch."

"Oh, good," I said in relief. "I thought you meant there was way more than that."

"Oh, there are. Just not around here," Emily said.

My stomach fell. It seemed that vampires had been a phenomenon that I'd existed alongside without even knowing. New York was home to thousands of people, I recalled. Any person within the margin of a thousand, no, a hundred people, could have easily been a vampire living alongside me. Eternal creatures that persisted off of human blood were real predators that ran aplenty and anyone could fall victim to them.

"Emily?" Sam asked as the glass door slid open. I jumped at the sound of her name, watching Sam appear behind the counter as I looked up. "I heard you get sick."

"I'm fine, babe," Emily said. Sam pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Is everything alright?" Jake asked as he came in through the backdoor. 

"I'm alive, I promise. You know how he worries," Emily said.

"Guys," Sam called to the group outside. 

A gaggle of boys entered the living room. I recognized Quil, Embry, Seth and much to my disapproval, Paul. Another boy I hadn't made the acquaintance of stood alongside them and the young woman I recognized on the porch stood attentively at Sam's call. 

"Em's sick. You should all probably head straight home so she can rest," Sam said. 

"Feel better, Em," said the boy.

"Thanks, Jared," she said as she rolled her eyes. "Sam is just being dramatic."

"Don't worry about it. We'll head home," Embry said. He looked between Jake and I. "You guys coming?"

"Sure," Jake said. "See you guys. Feel better." He gave a wave at Sam and Emily.

"See you tomorrow," Emily smiled at me. 

I smiled back and waved, happy I could be of some help to her. I was somewhat flattered she'd decided to let me know about her pregnancy and wondered when she'd drop the news to Sam.

"What was that all about?" Jake murmured to me. "She just threw up?"

"Pretty much," I said. "She asked me to come help her tomorrow."

"Wow," Jake said. "You've been initiated."

"Why do you say that?" I asked as he clasped his hand around mine. 

"My girl helping Sam's girl. It's cute, I guess," he said. 

"Cute that you get to see me tomorrow, too?" I asked.

"Don't let it get to your head," Jake said as he pinched my side. 

I laughed in protest as we stepped out the quaint blue door to Emily's home. Once we were outside, Paul was entering a shabby Toyota Corolla that Jared had pulled up to the front of the house. The car's stereo blared metal music all the way down the dirt clearing until the shrieking faded away. Embry and Quil were off to the side of the house, pointing out several pieces of machinery from underneath the hood of the Nissan.

"Come on, Leah," Seth whined from beside the Nissan. 

"Mom said you come home with me," the girl insisted. 

"Go," Jacob called to Seth from the porch. Seth's head shot up at his words, as heeding as a puppy. "You're exhausted."

"No, I'm not," Seth said. 

"Seth! Don't make me drag you over here," Leah said. She threw the driver's door open to her RAV4 and hopped into its seat, to which Seth gave a groan.

"Bye, Jake. Bye, Amaya," he said as he stalked off. He said his farewells to Quil and Embry, who looked up from their work to give him a wave.

"I didn't know the pack wasn't a boy's club," I said, "Maybe I could join, too."

Jacob laughed bleakly. "You have no idea what you'd be getting into."

"I was only joking. I guess I'm just surprised," I said. "Don't tell me that's the Leah you've been complaining about." Jake had complained from time to time about her cutting words, but I'd never thought she was a part of the wolf pack.

"That's her, alright. She's all spitfire," he said.

"Jake," Quil called over to him. "Come over here."

I followed as we made a short jaunt to the car, where Quil gave him a hesitant look. "We good?" he asked Jake.

Jake snorted and abruptly pulled him in for a hug. "Yeah, man. All good."

Quil clapped him on the back as they embraced, and I looked over to Embry.

"Long story short, they worked it out through our wolf-y mind connection," Embry said, picking up on my confusion. 

"That's good," I chimed. "I told you there was nothing wrong, Jake."

"When Jake's head isn't up his ass, he's pretty alright," Quil joked and we laughed. "So, where are we chilling?"

"Let's go to my place. My dad wants to see me," Jake said. 

The boys agreed to the plan and we headed off to our respective rides. Embry started up the Nissan as we made our way to the Rabbit. 

"It's good you and Quil made up," I said. 

"I could see in his head and saw that he meant nothing by it," Jake said. "I dunno. Would you say I'm the jealous type?"

I shrugged, unsure of how to answer at first. "Why do you ask?" I asked. We sat down into the aged leather seats, the car shaking as Jacob rested his large frame into the driver's side. 

"That's what they think of me. The whole pack," Jake said. "It was one thought in Quil's head and then all of a sudden it was in everyone else's."

"That's a bit tricky, Jake. They do know you a lot better than I do," I said.

"Would you be honest if I asked whether you liked him at all?" Jake asked.

"It was barely a crush, Jake. He was someone I could have  _maybe_ seen myself getting into. But even then, I wasn't thinking too much of it."

"And what about me?" he asked as he started the car, "Did you like me at all?"

I snorted. "You were still being a dick to me at that point, Jake."

Jake said nothing as he steered the car away from the house. I sighed as I realized he must have been contemplating what happened between me and Quil too much for his own good. 

"You're jealous," I said. 

"I'm not."

"Oh, yeah?"

Jake sighed. "I was in his head, Amaya. I saw how he caught you at the top of the stairs. I saw you smiling with him. I saw you laughing in his car."

"We were just friends, Jake. Not to mention you were the one to come check on me every night. You were the one to kiss me and protect me. Doesn't that count for something more?" I asked.

"I mean, yes. But we've fought. With him, all you've done is smiled. How do I give that to you? How do I make you happy?" he asked.

"You can't compare yourself to Quil, Jake. We've spent way more time together. You have to trust that you're enough for me instead of doubting it."

"What about what you said about not settling for less?" Jake asked. 

"If you give me all of you, Jake, I can't settle for less," I said. "When you hold back, when you give me lies, I can't just sit there and watch when I know you can give me more. Even now, I don't know if you're giving me that. But I have to trust that you are, that at the very least you're trying to, because that's all I could want. And you have to trust me, too."

Jacob fell into silence, biting his lip as he kept his eyes on the road. He spoke again after a moment. "I don't know why it was hard for me to trust you."

I shrugged. "You were insecure."

"Against Quil?" he asked with raised brows. 

"Yeah. Because you don't think you're enough."

"I am enough," he asserted. 

"Are you telling me, or yourself?" I asked.

Jake scoffed. "Damn it, stop trying to psych me out. It's like you're trying to get in my head and I already have enough people in it."

"By the sound of it, I'd guess I'm already there and you want me out," I said with a smile.

"Yep. You decided to move in permanently, I guess. You just started moving things around and decided to get comfy," Jake said. 

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" I asked. 

 Jake put the car into park in front of a red wooden house. He'd leaned in and kissed me, his soft lips lingering on mine before speaking.

"I don't think I could fight it if I tried," he said. 

I leaned into him again, kissing him more eagerly this time. The heat of his body sent chills along mine as I found myself wanting more from his kiss. His hand went to my cheek, his fingers brushing against my jawline before we parted. I looked into his onyx eyes, finding the same hunger in them that I'd felt for him then. 

It was only when I looked off to the side of his gaze that I'd noticed a Forks police car parked next to us. 

"What's going on?" I asked, nodding at the car behind him.

Jake turned around and gave a heavy sigh. He clapped a hand on the steering wheel in frustration. "My dad's friend is here." He opened the car door abruptly and, unsure of what significance the owner of the car had, I followed him into the house once he'd unlocked the front door. 

Jake had his arm around me as we entered together. I heard the sounds of a baseball game coming from a television set. Billy Black was in his wheelchair, sitting adjacent to his uniformed companion. They turned to Jake, and I saw their eyes widen as they settled on me. 

"Amaya!" Billy smiled. His straight and black hair fell on his shoulders, looking bare without the adornment of his cowboy hat. "I was wondering when you'd give my son back to me."

I smiled shyly. "Hi, Mr. Black."

"This is my friend, Charlie. He's the police chief over in Forks," Billy gestured over to the man. His dark bushy brows and mustache were contrasted with the color of his pale skin, his lips tightening into a flat, uncomfortable smile.

He stood up and he reached to shake my hand, and I took it. "Nice to meet you," he said curtly.

"Same to you," I said, offering a polite smile.

"Amaya lives in Forks," Billy explained. He almost looked pleased as he added, "Jake and her are good friends."

"Good to see ya, Jake." Charlie gave a wave. "How're things?"

"Good, good," Jacob said, his eyes wandering to the floor. "We're just uh, gonna be in the garage. Hanging out with the guys."

"Alright. Don't be afraid to come around sometime," Charlie said with a wave.

"Sure thing," Jacob replied with a shy smile. 

Jacob's arm hung on my shoulders as he led me to the garage, leaving an awkward silence in our midst. I looked to Jake for some explanation as to what the importance of that interaction was. 

He shut the scuffed door to the garage behind us and I was met with the familiar view of scattered tools and boxes. He turned to me and dropped his hands at his side.

"That was Bella's dad," he said.

"What's the matter? I thought your dad and him were close," I recalled.

"They weren't always. My dad's always known what the Cullens were and got pissed when Charlie took a liking to them. Now all Charlie can do is resent the fact that Bella won't stay away from them," Jake said. 

"Charlie knows about the Cullens?" I asked.

"No. But they whisk her off to like, Italy or Nevada or whatever and just leave him hanging. Imagine being a father and not knowing where the hell your daughter is disappearing off to. They practically kidnap her," Jake said.

"No way," I said.

"Yes, Amaya. This is exactly what I was talking about. Now all he wants is for me to be there for Bella," Jake fumed.

"Well, that's just unrealistic," I said, "She's made her choice."

"Yeah. She has," he said.

He swallowed and looked off at his boots and that's when I realized his heartbreak still lingered. 

Jake and Bella were two vastly different worlds that were bound by an immovable border, much to Jake's detriment. They were fated to live alongside one another, each a constant reminder of the other's presence. Away from Bella's world, I could only hope to keep crossing into his, the one with crashing waves and high cliffs and wolves abound. 

I tried to convince myself he belonged to me, that this world belonged to me. But when I looked at Jacob, I saw that the same spell she'd cast on him long ago was back again, and I feared my world was all of her own once more.


End file.
